


Flight to Freedom

by Brooke_n_Blue



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2014), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Out of the Shadows (2016)
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fanfiction, Original Character(s), Romance, Slow Burn, TMNT
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2018-07-19 03:28:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 68,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7342810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brooke_n_Blue/pseuds/Brooke_n_Blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A cold, tiled chamber and a lab.  From the day she could remember, it was all she ever knew, until she had been given her first taste of freedom.  But that was wrenched away from her mere moments later.  Years later, she still remembers those first sensations of unhindered, natural air caressing over her skin, sifting through the long curling tresses of her black hair, ruffling over her feathered wings... Years later, she has not given up her promise to never stop fighting for freedom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is edited and updated, and I figured out how to post chapters AND keep my formatting in it as well!

          Two years.  She almost couldn’t believe the hell her life had become in the span of just two years.  Pacing the confines of her chamber, a mere ten paces if she walked the shorter distance between what she knew were the North and South walls, and fifteen paces to cross from West to East.  Two years… And the day her life changed drastically.  The day she realized just how alone in the world she was.  The day she realized what freedom was, and that she was denied it.

          Before that, her memories were all pleasant.  Happy.  _Safe._

          A memory of her  _father_  bringing her blocks to build with when she was very small — a prize for being a good girl and not putting up a fuss when he came to draw blood from her small arm.  Or like the time he came to teach her to read, and brought her books…those times always elicited arguments from Uncle Iain. 

          “There is no purpose to these inane gifts.   _It_  doesn’t need to read.   _It_ has one purpose, and that is to science.  We need to understand exactly what worked with this one trial and why all the others failed.”

           “Stop calling her an ‘ _it_ ’.  She is a living, breathing person, complete with intellectual thought and emotion!”

          “ _It_  is an experiment, nothing more.  Giving it these…these…gifts, is pointless and does nothing to move the project forward. We need to know exactly  _how_  and  _why_  the point genetic mutation worked with Specimen 421, not treat it as a child.”

          As images raced through her mind, her pacing slowed until she no longer took one step before the other, swept up in the memories of her “childhood.”

          If it hadn’t been for her  _father_ , she would have never learned how to read or how to write.  She would never have had the softness of plush toy animals, or new blankets and pillows in her favorite color of deep green.  She would have never been given a name other than Specimen 421.  An emotional whirlwind began to surge within her as she thought back to the bittersweet memories of the only father she had ever known…

          “Close your eyes, Feronia.”

          “What is it, father?”  She could tell he was holding something behind his back, and she tried to dart around to sneak a peek.  But he was much taller than her, and could easily keep the treasure he held behind him hidden.

          “It’s a surprise.  If I simply tell you, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise now, would it?”

          With the all suffering sigh only a teenager could manage, she heaved a breath and squeezed her eyes shut.  There was a small odd sound, then the smell of something burning.  Her mind raced with possibilities of what it could be.  Why would he burn her surprise?  Determined to make her father proud, she squeezed her eyes shut even tighter.

          “Alright, Feronia, you can open your eyes now.”

          Slowly, she peeled her eyes open.  Held in the palm of his hand was a single cupcake, with a tall mound of green frosting and a spattering of colored sprinkles. Rising from the center was a single candle, flickering with flame.  Gasping in delight, she sprang off the examination table, the mass of feathers against her back rustling in her excitement.  Rarely did father bring her such treats.  Only once a year.  “It’s my birthday?” she exclaimed with pure, unadulterated excitement.

          “Yes indeed!” he returned, his chocolate brown eyes smiling down, but not yet handing her the small cake.  “And how old are you?”

          Feronia actually had to think about it, as they rarely discussed how old she was.  “Thirteen!” I have been keeping track, just like you showed me.  I use my colored markers to make a mark on the wall for each new day!”

          Pride bloomed on his face in the smile he turned down to her as he carefully handed her the birthday cupcake.  “Don’t forget to make a wish before you blow the candle out!”

          She didn’t even have to think hard.  Merely sucked in a lungful of air and puffed it out at the candle, extinguishing it instantly.  

          Turning away, her father walked to the lab bench where he began readying the instruments he always needed to take his _specimen samples._

          “Would you want some, father?”

          For a moment, the broad, white-coated back of her father seemed to grow still before he slowly turned back to her, his brow furrowed in that way when he was thinking of something that was troubling. “You don’t belong in here, my Feronia.” He mumbled to himself as he seemed to simply stare down at her outstretched hand, half of her birthday cupcake held carefully in her cupped palm.   The warmth of her father’s hand settled over her own as he cupped her proffered hand in one of his larger ones, still staring at the cupcake.

          “How a child raised in utter isolation can grow up so…sweet.  I will tell you what.  While we share your birthday cake, why don’t I finally answer the question you are always asking me lately.”

          “Why you don’t have wings too?” she asked.

          That day had been life changing.  That day, she had learned that she had been created in a lab, in a secret government program to see if the human genome could be point mutated to cause very specific mutations; like splicing two portions of two different genomes together.  Before her, many subjects either never survived to draw breath, or died shortly after being “born.”  She was the first, the first human chimera.  The first specimen of human DNA point mutated with the avian genome. It was why, growing from her back, was a set of perfectly formed wings, feathers and all.  It was why her  _father_  visited her daily to collect samples — tissue samples, blood samples, saliva, urine, feces, blood pressure, heart rate...all were collected to try and answer why Specimen 421 “succeeded” while all other test subjects failed.

          From that day on, her father began to make sure to give her an education in greater depth. Eagerly, she learned science and math, biology and calculations.  And she learned everything at a rapid rate.  Feronia fully understood that  _Uncle Iain_  and  _Father_  were actually partners in this government endeavor.  And as time moved on, days passing into years, the arguments between Iain and Father became more common.  More numerous and prevalent.  More and more, she was kept isolated for long periods in her chamber; although Father always made sure she had some comforts —  that touch of kindness so often bereft everywhere else she turned.

          Then the day she would never forget happened. 

          At first it was no more ordinary than any of her other days.  But she should have known.  There was electricity bristling in the air.  An energy that she didn’t notice until the lock on her chamber door sounded.  The telltale echo of the electric bolt sliding back with a _chunk_ at a time it was not scheduled to open peaked her interest.  Staring in anticipation, she watched as the heavy, reinforced steel door swung open, thudding against the wall with a loud clang.  Bursting through the open doorway, frenzied and almost wild, was Father.  It was shocking to see him without his white lab coat.  Blood oozed from a gash in his hairline.

          Quickly, she climbed off her bed, tucking and folding her wings up so that they wouldn’t drag on the ground.  Now, at sixteen, her wings had grown quite large.  With an extra joint growing out from her back near each shoulder blade — muscle, bone, and sinew arched up a foot-and-a-half  to the first main joint of the wing before sweeping down another four feet. Only being a little over five feet tall, if she held her wings folded up vertically against her back, they hung  down to a few inches off the floor.   But when she stretched, straightening them out in their full glory, each wing was about six feet from wingtip to where they grew from her body.  The feathers, oh how she loved her feathers, were a deep black with a touch of indigo that could only be seen when the light shined on them just so.  They were often a source of fascination during the long hours within the confines of her chamber.

          Making sure to keep her wingtips off the ground, she rushed toward her father.  “You’re bleeding!”

          “I know,” he huffed, snagging her hand while simultaneously glancing at his watch. “Shit, we are running out of time. Feronia, follow me, and for the love of god, don’t make a sound.  Do you understand?”

          Confusion and alarm spearing through her, she nodded frantically.  And with that, Father tugged her along after him and out her chamber door.  She rarely got to leave this room, and when she did, armed guards and her father escorted her out into the hall and to the right where they would normally head to the lab.  Today, her Father tugged her to the left and down the hall.

          Bare feet padding along the hallway floor as she ran after her Father, she was lead down one empty hall way and up another until they reached a door he used his keycard to open.  With his hands shaking badly, it took him three attempts to slide his keycard through a slot on the wall before a light above the door changed from red to green, and then they were busting through the door and running up a flight of stairs.  

          “Father, where are we going?  What is wrong?” she huffed out between lungfulls of air as she tried to catch her breath.  It’s not like her days consisted of a lot of physical activity unless the science program called for those types of tests.

          His hand squeezed hers tighter in answer. “Just a little further.  Come, little one.  Trust me.”

          It seemed like an unending amount of stairs before the stairwell ended at a door. Bracing one hand on the door, her father swung it open.

          For the first time in her life, fresh, unhindered air met her face, and she inhaled deeply.  There were no words to describe the feeling of finally getting to see the world beyond her chamber and the lab, to fill her lungs with real, natural air, to feel the wind caress over the skin not covered by the skintightjump suit she always had to wear.  Even her hair moved and ruffled in the wind…

          But before she got to treasure such feelings further, Father yanked her forward across the rough surface toward a helicopter waiting on the roof pad, it’s blades spinning and rumbling through the air.

          In a full on sprint, they raced across the rooftop, but as they drew near, her father slowed, alarm tensing his body as he shoved her behind him even more.   Peering around him, she tried to see what had alarmed her Father so much. From what she could tell, no one was in the running helicopter.  Was there suppose to be?

          “Stan?”  Father called out cautiously.   Stepping forward slowly, they drew up alongside the helicopter.  Feronia grit her teeth as she had to really keep her wings tucked tight against her back under the wind the chopper blades generated. Her long black curls fluttered wildly in the raging gusts, tangling in a wild mess.  Reaching out, Father opened the helicopter door.  

          A scream wrenched from her throat as the body of a pilot slumped lifeless to the rooftop floor, making them both jump back out of the way.  In the back seat of the chopper sat Iain, a hand gun pointed at them.

          “Nathan, Nathan, Nathan,”  Iain chided as he maneuvered himself out of the chopper to stand before them beneath the swirling blades, the gusts of the chopper snapping his suit coat and pants back tight against his body.  “Did you honestly think you could get away with something like this?  What were you going to do, exactly?  Smuggle Specimen 421 out of the building and hide her somewhere?”

          “I was giving her freedom!”  Father barked back, trying to draw her further behind him.

          The sound of several booted feet on pavement followed by rapid clicks had her peering over her shoulder.  Four of the heavily armed guards that she often saw guarding her chamber door stood behind them, assault guns leveled at them.  

          “Father?”  The simple word left her lips in a trembling whisper as dread coiled through her.

          Instead, Father turned and gripped her face between his two hands, holding her gaze to his.  “Promise me you will never stop trying to escape this place.  Never stop fighting for freedom.”

          Over her father’s shoulder, Iain’s face twisted in a haughty sneer.  “You always were a sentimental old fool.”  

          Almost in slow motion, Feronia saw Iain raise his gun, watched flame rupture from the end of the barrel…then Father’s head snapping forward, a warm gush of blood and brain matter spattering across her face and chest.  For a moment, time seemed to stand still.  Then his body dropped sickeningly to his knees before he slumped, crumpling over to the side in a lifeless heap.

            Her screams of horror, shock, and utter pain still rang in her ears to this day.  They had dragged her back, kicking and screaming, to her chamber.  Several guards tossed her roughly into the room before that damn door slammed shut and the  _chunk_  of that electric lock sounded.  For hours, she had screamed and bawled at the door, beating against the metal in futility.

          That was two years ago.  

***


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

            “Oh man, brah!  Do you smell that awful stink?”

            “We do in fact live in a sewer.  A newer location, true, yet still a sewer.  Therefore the chances of an “awful stink” assaulting our olfactory senses are ninety-three-point-two-four-six percent.”

            “Who was talking about old factories, Donnie!”  His enhanced skateboard coming to a scratching halt on the roughened surface of the large underground pipe they were currently sprinting through, his youngest brother stopped dead in front of him, orange tails of his bandanna whipping forward.  “I smell something worse.  Don’t you smell it, Raph?”

            With his own momentum carrying him forward at too great a speed for an abrupt halt to be possible, Leonardo gathered his legs and leapt to a grate above him, swinging over Mikey’s head.  Tucking, rolling, and spinning as he let go, he landed several feet from where Mikey, and now Donnie, stood.  “You’re not a window, Mikey.  Stopping like that is reckless.”

            His youngest brother snorted at him.  Actually snorted at him, before shooting a huge grin his way, playfully punching his left shoulder.  “Aren’t you supposed to be a badass ninja, brah?”

            Willing himself patience against the frustration only a youngest brother, and a perpetually happy and fun spirited one at that, could dredge up, he stomped closer.  “You still have to be aware of your surroundings at all times.  We are a team, each parts of a single unit –”

            “I smell it too, Leo.  An’ it ain’t no normal stank.”  Raph’s gravelly voice interrupted.

            But now that they were all standing in one place, at T-junction of two intersecting pipes, he could smell it too.  Wordlessly, he shouldered past his three brothers and moved down the transecting pipe, following it until it led out into an open basin.  Several pipes seemed to lead to here, debris-filled water flowing from the yawning ends of the pipes.  And not all of the pipes were massively large; several were small pipes no larger than his fist, torrents of water shooting out of them like a hose. 

           “Donnie?  Have we mapped this area yet?”

           Shaking his head, his brother shoved the thick glasses more firmly onto his purple sash covered nose before popping open a sealed device strapped to the bicep of his left arm, tapping swiftly.  A holo image popped up, a map of intersecting lines and squiggles.  The city maps of NYC’s sewage and drainage system he had been altering as they scouted more and more of the new labyrinth that was their home, a necessity after Shredder blew their previous lair to pieces several years ago.  Tapping swiftly, holo screens flashing in rapid motion as his intelligent eyes scanned them just as quickly, he nodded as he stopped at a particular holo image.   “This is a reservoir for storm-water from the southern Brooklyn area of New York City above us.  It should have little biological waste, otherwise it would not pass the city’s Waste Water Treatment protocols.   Looks like this reservoir acts as a micro-sink…”

           A growl to Leo’s left broke into Donnie’s long winded explanation.  “What does that mean, genious?”  Raphael growled.

           Unfazed, Donatello merely blinked at his older brother.  “Indeed.  All this storm-water dumps into the Lower Bay.  According to my holo renderings of the city drainage system, this…well, pool, if you will, helps trap organisms that would otherwise cause unnatural algal blooms in the bays.”

           “Then what is _that_?”

           Three pairs of eyes turned toward their orange-masked brother before following the line of his outstretched arm where he pointed to several floating masses bobbing in the pooling water.  It was obvious they just found the source of the awful stench.

           As if he were unperturbed by the eye watering smell, Donatello hurried to the edge of the pipe, dropping down to the edge of the concrete and metal underground basin. 

           The best thing to do was let his younger brother work.  Crossing his arms, he leaned back until his shell rested up against the wall of the large pipe the rest of them currently stood in as they waited for Donnie. 

           Raph was pacing back and forth, rolling his bulky shoulders in agitation.  Leo lifted his chin, gaining his brother’s attention.  “What’s with the tension, Raph.”  It was a statement, not a question.

           Merely pausing in midstride before resuming his prowling course, Raph moved the toothpick held between his teeth a bit.  “Just pent up, Leo.  It has been months since we stopped that mechanical freak.  Shredder is gone, though those Foot assholes is still causin’ trouble, an’ we been laying low even though the NYPD knows about us now.  We…WE, could be helpin’ them, not running around tunnels underground.”

           “Woooo….Raph’s pent up?  It’s only been like, two whole minutes since the last time you were pent up.”

           “Shut up, Mikey!”  Raph and Leo both barked in unison, their gazes between each other never once breaking.

           “Look, Raph, just because the NYPD knows about us and worked with us, and _seems_ willing to accept us, doesn’t mean the four of us can go cart-wheeling through the streets of New York.  We need to protect ourselves now more than ever.  And if they need us –”

           “But, Leo –”

           “– IF they need us,”  Leo interjected, deliberately added a layer of command to his tone, “they will contact us.  Or April will contact us –”

 _Gasp!_ “My babycakes!  I miss my babycakes!”

           “— and we will rise to their aid.  And we will continue to do what we have been doing to protect this city, OUR city, and the people who live here.  We will be the vigilance these people needs when dusk falls.”

           Raph seemed to mull his words around for a moment, hearing the authority Leo had slipped into his voice.  Raphael may be a hothead, but he respected the authoritative hierarchy of their family, even if he if he challenged it now and again.  And he knew deep down under that hard shell, family was first and foremost to the sai wielding ninja.

           “If you are pent up,”  Leo added, “fix your ninjutsu forms.  You have been sloppy the last few days.  Get whatever distractions are out of your head and focus on fixing your forms.”

           A completely different fire light up the depths of Raph’s amber eyes.  The light of a challenge.  “Sloppy!”

           “Uh, Leo?”  Donnie’s voice sounded moments before his head popped into view.  “You need to come see this.”

           “Oooh, is it bad?  Or gross?  I bet it’s gross, man!”  Mikey proclaimed as he squatted down to where Donnie was already disappearing back down to the manmade, underground basin.

           Instantly in motion and pushing away from the wall, Leo moved around Mikey and hopped down on the cement rim of the basin.  This close, the stench wafting from the masses Donnie had been studying was so close his eyes threatened to water.  “Speak to me, Donnie.”

           “They’re human.”

            _"_ _What?"_   On the heels of shock, alarm slammed through him as he studying the floating masses of flesh.  All he saw were a half dozen putrid, decaying blobs of pale goo.  Until Donnie used a telescoping rod to lift one half out of the water.

           “They are human fetuses, according to my scans.  But each one has obviously an extra non human feature.  Look at this one’s hands, they are like claws.  Exactly what kind of claws, I cannot speculate yet.”  Replacing that one in the water, he fished out another.  “This one?  Scales over its back.  I swear another has developing pubescent wings, but growing from the wrong location wings _should_ be growing from, respective to human biology, anyway.  Instead, the extra appendages looked to have been growing out from the abdomen.”

           “More purple ooze mutations?”  Raph bit off from where he peered over out of the tunnel above.

           Donnie shook his head.  “I don’t think so… the mutagen and purple ooze could generate results in a matter of hours or even minutes.  These I think were…grown?  I would need to do more analysis back home at my lab.  And then I did find this.  Could be nothing but coincidence, but…”  Reaching to his left, Donnie brought around a soaked and completely filthy garment.  “It’s a lab coat with a NexGen emblem stitched on the breast pocket.”

           His mind racing, Leo studied the decaying macabre before him.  “Do you need a whole…blob…for your tests?”

           “No, I should be able to take samples of what I need.  I can photographically document the rest.”

           “Do it, and then we need to get on the phone to April and Casey.  They may know something.”

           “I call dibs on calling my babycakes!”

           The following night on the rooftop Mikey had directed April to, Leo watched as the reporters brow furrowed while Donnie scrolled through the images he took, bringing them up one at a time on his holo-viewer as he showed her their discovery.  The look of revolting horror on her face deepened with each image.  Standing close behind her, peering over her shoulder, Casey watched and listened with the intensity only a police officer could produce.  The NYPD were warriors in their own right, trained to protect the people of this city, and Leonardo fully respected that, even if their skill sets were vastly different than those of himself and his brothers.  Their dedications, however, were the same. 

           “I ran some tests, basic PCR and genetic mapping polyacrylamide gel electroporesis.  Simple, really.  And the genomes in the samples I took _are_ human, but there are a few locations where the DNA has been purposefully changed, spliced with non human DNA.”

           “Is this more _ooze_ stuff?  I thought you four destroyed what there was after you stole it from police headquarters?”  Casey voiced.

           “We did.”  Raph’s voice interjected.

           Donnie nodded energetically.  “Yes, destroyed.  This is more like genetic engineering.”

           April finally wrenched her gaze from the disturbing images of their find down in the tunnels to lock with Donnie’s.  “NexGen is a company well known for genetic modification, but they modify plants, like corn and other vegetable crops, and they are _always_ under fire in the news from people fearful of such scientific work.  I can start digging around on my end, see what I can scrounge up.  Maybe find some leads on illegal activity.”

           Out of the corner of his eye, Leo saw a flicker of orange.  His youngest brother was sidling up to Casey.

           A nudge with one elbow, and Mikey unintentionally stumbled Casey out of his stance.  With a double-take, Casey turned his gaze to the nunchuck wielding turtle.

           “Sooooo….are you moving in on my girl?”

           Simultaneously, both April and Leo rolled their eyes as he strode forward, planting a palm in the middle of his brothers face and pushing him out of the way and out of the conversation.  In the next beat, he turned to Donatello.  “The main NexGen lab is where, exactly?”

           “Near Fourth Avenue, Bay Ridge.” April supplied.

           “Donnie, think you can access any of their systems?  Get us a layout of the building?”

           He felt Raph draw closer, drawn in by the prospect of a mission.

           “Let’s get back down to the lair, and I will see what I can hack.  There is a forty-three-point-eight percent chance I can crack their systems and get at least video feeds, even past video feeds, of their surveillance cameras.  But they are a government funded company, the odds of anything more begins to drastically reduce.”

           Leo nodded gave a single nod.  “Then we’ll get on it.  April, Casey, call as soon as you get any information.  Guys,” he turned, addressing his three brothers, “tomorrow night we are visiting NexGen labs.”

           Raph balled up a fist, slugging it into the palm of his other hand.  “About time.”

            After first making sure April and Casey had safely navigated the fire escape on the side of the building and sped down the street in Casey’s car, he and his brothers began their way back to the lair, making impressive speed as they jumped between rooftops and soared over streets below them under the cloaking shadows of night.  And as always, the competition to see who could make it back first rose up in each of them, and before long, they were each shouting out in the adrenaline fueled thrill of their race.

            Once back, Splinter met them at the entrance to their underground home, impatience glimmering in the black orbs of his eyes as the rat pinned each of them with the quelling look of a Sensei.  “I believe we all agreed that discretion would be exercised.  Meaning no trips to the surface! Leonardo, explain your actions at once.”

            With a deep, respectful bow, each brother following suit in kind, Leo shared everything he and his brothers had learned.

            “Donatello, follow your eldest brothers orders at once.  Leonardo, come with me.”

            Standing, Leo followed his Sensei to the dojo without question.  As soon as the door was closed, the large rat began to pace, one hand stroking through the thick tufts of black whiskers that bracketed his long nosed muzzle.  Leo held his place, waiting for his Sensei’s lead. 

            It wasn’t until Master Splinter’s third complete circle of the dojo that his father turned to him, moving to the center of the underground room and motioning to the floor.  “Meditate with me, Leonardo, until your brother has answers from his computers for you.”

            With a nod, Leo moved to take his place before Splinter as the rat sank down into sitting lotus position.  Matching his deep breaths with that of his father, he let himself sink into the embracing arms of meditation.

            He wasn’t even sure how much time had passed before Mikey popped his head into the dojo.  “Donnie found something!”

            And that was how Leo found himself standing behind Donatello as his brothers thick, green fingers flew over the multitude of keyboards spread out on the bench in front of him, the purple-masked turtle wheeling his chair from one end of monitors to the other.

            “I managed to gain both video footage _and_ audio footage, though not together.  And the video footage is from three days ago.  Here, listen to this, I think this answers the mystery of what we found down in the tunnels.”

            With a click, the static, crackily sound speakers began spewing forth voices. 

            _“What am I supposed to do with all the discarded trials?  I have but ONE crematory, and it is not keeping up with the amount of evidence that needs to be destroyed from the failed trials….Doctor Grayston?  Doctor Grayston!”_

_“Yes, I heard you.  I don’t care how it is destroyed, just take care of it.  As long as nothing is traced back to NexGen.”_

The speakers popped and crackled some more, as a different file began playing.

            _“How soon can the video camera’s be set up in Specimen 421’s holding chamber?  Another week??  I want it completed in two days.  Yes…two days.”_

            “I think this is that Doctor Grayston speaking to someone on a phone,” Donnie supplied.  Glancing over his shoulder with dread, he started the next audio file.

            _“Start the electrotherapy trials.  The General will oversee everything.”_

_“And for how long, Sir?”_

_“Until its memory is completely mine.”_

_“Very good, Sir."_

            Thick silence hung between the four man-turtles and their Sensei. 

           “What is that electro shit?”  Raph voiced to his right. 

           Swallowing thickly, Donatello fingers flew over his keyboards, and gestured to a particular screen on the top row a few seconds before a video began to play silently.

           “My sons,” Splinter began, breaking the tense silence, “you must stop this.  It is our duty to protect those that cannot protect themselves.  Rescue that girl, and bring her here.  We will figure out what steps to take next once she is safe, with us.  Do what you must to prepare.”  Turning to him, Splinter gripped his forearm, urgency rife in the motion.    “As soon as night falls, you cannot falter.  I fear great evil is at work here.”

           He looked over to Raph to see his brother’s eyes narrowed in barely contained rage, the muscles in his jaw ticking as he ground his teeth.  He caught his eye as he turned.

           “Just give the word, Leo.” 

           And with that, Raph stalked off to the weight room.  Raphael collected himself best when he could push his bulky muscles to the brink in mindless repetitions, packing muscle onto already packed muscle.

           “Donnie, give me a plan with three exit strategies at a minimum.  Got it?”

           “Yeah, Leo.  I’m on it.”

           Mikey was uncharacteristically silent, staring with abject horror at the video that looped over and over on the screen before them.  Moving, he settled a hand on his youngest brothers shoulder.  “This is our purpose, Mikey.  To stop shit like this.”

           Nodding, the youngest, orange-masked mutant swiped at his cheeks.  “It should never happen in the first place, Leo.” 

           And with that, Leo let Mikey move off to the dojo where the sounds of precise training began to emanate from.

           Four hours later, Leo had not budged, his eyes remaining fixed on the silent video playing out on the top row of monitors.  She looked so slight as they dragged her across the floor of a lab, and although she appeared to struggle with everything she had, she was greatly outnumbered.  Wrists were clamped tied into shackles, hooked by a length of chain to a hoist that raised until her feet barely touched the ground.  It took six men to pin the large sweep of wings arching from her upper back as she struggled, fighting, until they were held, and also clamped tightly, with several coils of rope around the two wing bones jutting from her back.  Several soldiers stood at the ready once the creature was contained, her struggles effectively muted.  And amongst well-armed military mercenaries were the unmistakable garb of the Foot Clan.  What and how the Foot was in league with this Doctor Grayson and the one known as The General, he did not know.  Shredder was gone, so he had no idea who was leading the Foot currently.

           As a hose was dragged in, the winged creature in chains was doused until soaked.  That’s when the electricity began…currents zapping from a rod in a lab coated scientists hands to her body, muscles locking tight, head snapping back, teeth gritting until the connected was severed as the rod was drawn away.  A man in uniform slowly stalked into view, arms held and body postured in the way of military leadership.  _The General._   It must be.  Leo’s eyes narrowed as the whole video looped over again, trying to make out what the General said to the…winged human?  But it was impossible to tell.  All he knew is whatever response was given, the snapping, popping rod was brought forward to touch flesh again.

           The sea of emotions that swirled through him was turbulent; anger seething with rage, horror and revulsion churning deep beneath it all like an undercurrent.  But unlike Raphael, who worked best when he was a barely contained explosion ready to be released on a target, on a purpose, everything within Leonardo narrowed down to finite, precise focus.  That was _his_ lethal edge that he kept in tight control, that he wielded like a weapon as sharp and deadly as his twin katanas.  On the surface, to Donatello who glanced over his shoulder now and then, all that was seen was the intense focus of a ninja leader.

           It was their duty, their responsibilities as ninja’s, to protect the innocents of this city.

 _His_ innocents to protect.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything edited and updated! All comments welcome!


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The completed Chapter Three!

**Chapter Three**

            _Chunk._

Irony was like a cruel blade as panic and pure, unadulterated fear slashed through her at the sound.  At one time in her life, that sound had brought with it such joy and excitement because a smiling face greeted her with the arrival of _Father_ as the electric lock activated on that cold, steel door.  But that life?  That life no longer seemed real.  Merely a fantasy born of desperation.

_Never stop fighting for freedom…_

           The words floated in the back of her mind as she scrambled to her feet, moving to the far side of the room.  It was a futile move, yet it was no more instinctive than flinch, or a leg kicking out as someone tapped the front of the knee.  Two days ago all comforts had been removed from her room.  No more bed, no desk, no furnishings of any kind.  Even the security curtain around the rooms toilet in the corner was removed.  Nothing greeted her when she was brought back save for the floor to ceiling cold, white tiles and florescent lights that now never turned off. 

           There was a different word for her chamber, one she didn’t grasp fully until recently.  And how could she?  This was the only existence she had ever known.  But she remembered reading about it in one of the myriad books _Father_ used to bring her.  _House of Stairs_ by William Sleator. 

           This?  This was a prison.

           Pressing herself against the wall opposite of the steel door as it swung open, she tried to brace her shoulders, the coldness of the tiles cool against the feathered wings pinned between her body and the wall.  Two men in full tactical gear, guns drawn, rushed in first.  Guns loaded with tranquilizer in case she became too…defiant.  The man that walked in next was someone she had never seen before.  Older, almost like Father, with short cropped graying hair, a smoldering cigar clamped between his teeth.  He also looked to be dressed in the same military clothing as the guards ready to shoot her up with tranquilizer if the order was given. 

           It was the look glittering in his gaze that bothered her the most as his eyes traveled, slowly, over her form from head to toe, as if he were appraising every inch.  The disturbing shudder that ran through her had nothing to do with the coldness of the room, and left her feeling naked and exposed regardless of the fact that she still wore the plain gray jumpsuit.  At least they hadn’t taken that away from her.  _Yet._

           Dr. Grayston filled the doorway a moment later, drawing alongside the older man still running a heated gaze over her, lingering on the swell of her breasts. 

“           Impressive, isn’t it, General?  Specimen 421.  And thus far, the only specimen to make it this far in the life span.  But I _can_ figure out the secret my former colleague had discovered.  Specimen 421 was the result of a batch of trials he set up.  Since Dr. Nathon Stone’s _unfortunate_ accident, I have been unsuccessful in recovering his notes from that trial, and therefore need to recreate the results.  And to recreate the results, I need more money.  We need to show our investors something more than what _it_ is now.  However, it is most…defiant.”

           She felt herself bristle at Dr. Grayston’s words.  She hated being called an _it._   She had a name!

           “Indeed.  But the defiance, the will… it radiates from every inch of that perfect, young body.”

           Stalking forward, the General moved in so close he was inches from her before she could move.  Raising one hand, he ran his palm down the curve of one feathered wing.  It was a touch far too intimate for her to handle, and with a hiss, she jerked the wing away from his grasp.

           Before she could react, the hand that had been on her wing snapped up and snagged her chin in a bruising grasp, her head cracking back against the unrelenting tile with the force of his movement, pinning her head in place. 

           “Such fire!”

           She choked on the cigar-laced breath that puffed across her face with each spoken word. 

           He growled low, a sound she didn’t have the experience to interpret.  “I will enjoy breaking you.”

           An insidious laugh slithered over her, making her skin crawl, as he took in her reaction, watching every minute change in her expression, each flicker of fear in her eyes.

           “Boys!”

           At his sudden barked command, two more people entered the room, dressed vastly different than anyone she had seen in all her life.  With nothing but a slit to keep their vision unimpeded, they were garbed in black from head to toe.  And were those…swords? 

           Her train of thought completely derailed as the General barked another command, and the black garbed men crossed the room and snagged her by each arm, yanking her forward and dragging her along with them as the whole collection of people in the prison chamber stepped aside to let them pass as she was taken through the doorway. 

           As they banked to the right and headed down the hallway, the fear coiled deep within her at that first sound of the lock on her door activating moments ago sprang forward, morphing into something much worse.  _Terror._   She began to struggle against their hold with each step to the lab, even though she knew her efforts were futile.  She was simply two weak and outnumbered.

_Never stop fighting for freedom._

_Never stop fighting for freedom._

_Never stop fighting for freedom._

           The mantra chanted through her mind as she was dragged bodily down the hallway, wings trailing uselessly through the dust along the floor behind her. 

           As the double lab doors swung open with their arrival, her eyes alighted on the three foot shallow basin of water sitting in the middle of the exam room.  Several scientists, lab coats white and pristine, moved out of the way to make room as the men hauled her into the room.  Cold metal encased her wrists as her hands were caught and placed into thick shackles.

_Never stop fighting..._

_Never stop fighting…_

           With a cry born of desperation, she writhed and seethed in their grasps as multiple sets of hands reached forth to assist in restraining her.  Snapping her head back, her skull connected with a black masked face behind her, satisfaction flickering throughout her at audible _crack_ of cartilage.  The coppery smell of blood proceeded the bitten curse as the man behind her stumbled back.  Taking the opportunity, she began to beat her wings, trying to throw as many hands off her as possible as she frantically tried to slid her hands free of the shackles.  Gusts of wind whipped through the lab, papers flipping into the air to flutter about and objects rolling off tables to ping and bounce along the floor. 

           Amid the shouts and sounds of struggle, a single order barked out that sealed her fate. 

           “Get in there and pin those goddamn wings down!”

           In the end, they were too powerful.  Too many.  Her wings, forced straight back and tied tightly together with several coils of rope that dug past indigo hinted feathers and deep into the flesh beneath feather and sinew, she soon found herself completely immobilized.  And with the hum of a motor, the chain attached to the metal cuffs shortened and tightened until she was suspended in the air a foot above the water filled basin.

           Her body spun slowly in the air, her frantic gaze trying to make eye contact with the scientists, pleading for some semblance of help.

          “Now, we are going to go over this again.  You should remember this from yesterday.”

          As she spun around, the General game into view as he spoke, a small black box held in one hand.  His thumb depressed a button, and she began to lower until her feet submerged in the water, finally stopping when she could bear the smallest amount of weight on the tips of her toes.  Just enough to keep her utterly defenseless. 

          “What is your name?”

           Shaking uncontrollably, she leveled him her most potent glare, wishing that turning someone to a burning pile of goo by a heated look alone was actually possible.  “Feronia.”

           With a sad shake of his head, the General gestured to one of the black clothed men beside him. 

           With a long rod gripped in one hand, he moved forward with purpose.

           As the end of the metal rod drew closer and closer to her side, she couldn’t contain the frantic plea that tore from her as she tried frantically to move her body away.  “No, no, no!” 

           White hot agony shot through her entire being, every muscle locking tight as electricity coursed through her body, conducted by the shallow basin of water she dangled in. 

           And then just like that, the agony was gone as the rod wielding man stepped back.

            Crossing his arms, the General leveled her a look.  “I can do this all day, sweetheart. And unlike yesterday, we are not going to stop until you tell me, what is your name?”

            _Never stop fighting…_   “F-Feronia.”

            The rod punched into her abdomen and her body locked down tight, her heart stuttering in her chest painfully as pain beyond measure filled her entire existence.  Suddenly, it was gone again and she was left there, hanging limply from the ceiling of the lab.

            “Do you really think this will work, General?” Dr. Iain’s voice sounded through the din roaring in her ears, her chest heaving as if she had just sprinted around her chamber prison for hours on end.

            “Trust me, Doctor.  First you break the mind.  Then, and only then, can you remold and reshape that mind into anything you desire. You want a specially trained aerial soldier to show your investors, I will give you one.  What is your name!”  The General bit out last.

            Breath heaving, head ringing, mind numb.   Tears streamed down her cheeks as she leveled her gaze at Dr. Iain.  She would fight; even if that meant the only way to beat the evil surrounding her was by welcoming death’s embrace.  A sob tore from her throat as in that moment, she knew.  She knew she would never feel a breeze brush across her skin again, never smell the sweetness of fresh air or see that stunning blue of a clear sky.  “Fer-Feronia.”

            She lost all sense of time as electricity coursed through her body over and over again.  Her whole existence became a seething sea of pain and agony, of gut wrenching muscles locked in unrelenting spasms, her jaw snapping shut and teeth cutting into her tongue until the tangy taste of blood filled her mouth as the ruby liquid dripped from the corners of her lips to fall into the water at her feet like sullen drops. 

            When the sensation of a hand brushing back sweat soaked strands of hair off her forehead roused her, she realized she must have blacked out.  Struggling to open her eyes, the General face filled her vision.  “This doesn’t have to be so difficult.  Just answer the question correctly, and this can all go away.  What is your name?”

            _Never stop fighting…_

            But a mind could only take so much. 

            The words were barely audible on the whimper that slipped unwilling from her.

            The General leaned forward, tilting his head to bring his ear closer to her blood cracked lips, her head lolling forward weakly.  “What was that?”

            Never before had she been so incredibly thirsty, but her dry tongue flicked over her quivering lips. 

            “I repeat,” The General bit off.   “What.  Is.  Your .  Name.”

            “S-s-specimen…4…4...”

            Darkness crashed down around the lab as every light winked out.

***

            She could tell she hovered on the brink of unconsciousness, and she willed herself to stay alert.  It was when she lost consciousness that she worried The General and his men would do more horrible things to her than she could live with.

            Adding his curse to the several voices exclaiming in shock at the sudden lack of light, The General moved away.  Several clicks around the room preceded beams of light that cut through the shadows as flashlights were flicked on.

            “Dr. Chang, why do I not have any power?  Is it down in the whole damn building?”  The General’s voice barked.

            Satisfaction coursed through her at the thought that with no power at his disposal, the horrible electric rod they kept prodding her with would no longer work.  At least until the power was brought back on line.

“There should be three backup generators in the basement.  Dr. Greyson insisted on it.  But they should have kicked on by now.”

            Growling, The General swung a beam of light toward her, and the sudden brightness sent a stabbing throb coursing through her head as she squinted her eyes against the beam of the flashlight.  “Then get on your cell phone to building maintenance and get the power back on.  Where the fuck is Dr. Greyson?”

            “He left for the evening, sir!”

            She wasn’t sure how long she hung there in the darkness, The General stalking about the room giving low spoken orders to his mercenaries, the rustle of bodies and coats as lab technicians, scientists, and mercenaries moved about.

            Booted feet pounding down the hallway had her snapping awake…she must have blacked out for a moment. 

            “Sir!  Everyone on the second floor is down.”

            “What the hell do you mean, _down_?”

            “They are all unconscious, sir!”

            Suddenly a steal arm around her waist brought her flush with The General’s body as he hefted her up and reached up with the other arm, unhooking her cuffs from the chain in the ceiling.  As her feet hit the solid surface of the floor, her knees buckled, but The General held her easily in a harsh grip as he dragged her after him.

            “Bently, Strom, on our six.  Sanches and Portlan, take point.  The rest of you Foot Clan bastards fan out and keep a perimeter around us.  If someone is attacking this building, then we are getting Specimen 421 out of here and to the backup location.  Move out!”

            And with those succinct orders, men moved to their positions and she was half dragged after The General as he made his way to the lab doors that lead out into the third floor hallway.  Drawing near the door, he drew a pistol from a holster at his side.  With a nod to Sanches and Portland, the two mercenaries shouldered their rifles, took position, and shoved through the door into the hallway.  Suddenly their bodies went flying and the lab doors swung closed once more.

            Everyone seemed to freeze for a heartbeat, then chaos erupted around her as something large busted in through the double doors of the lab.  Men shouted, gunfire retorted deafeningly in rapid succession as flashlight beams whipped through the darkness, mercenaries and Foot Clan soldiers running about, fighting something that sent one of the sword wielding Foot Clan soldiers sailing over both her and The General’s head.

            Suddenly, the encroaching blanket of unconsciousness was the least of her worries as adrenaline spiked through her veins, waking every sense up and rocketing them into overdrive.  With a heave of strength borne of desperation, she slammed her head into The Generals hard enough to make his hold on her relinquish the slightest bit she needed to squirm from his grasp.  Slamming to the ground, she spotted the rolling beam of a flashlight on the floor and crawled through the darkness towards it, keeping one side to the row of lab benches and chairs, her tied wings tucked as low as she could make them. 

            “Did you see me, Raph!  I’m like a snapping turtle, you fool!”

            “You need a new line, Mikey.”

            “Guys, focus!”

            A spray of gunfire shattered several beakers and flasks on the bench above her, shards of glass showering down on her in a tinkling rain of jagged shards.  Gritting past the bite of glass into her palms and along her shins and knees, she scrambled toward the downed mercenary.  Once she reached the unconscious mans side, she tried to release the catch to the large combat blade he had sheathed on a strap across his chest, her cuffed hands fumbling and failing twice before she had the hilt of the knife in her grasp.  Turning it so the blade pointed toward her, she brought her arms over her head while she raised her tied wings up, biting her lip against the cry of agony as the rope dug painfully against muscle and bone and cutting into flesh. 

            Forcing her back into an arch, she reached back with the knife, the blade shaking alarmingly as it came within a few inches of the rope tying her wings together.  “Come on, come on!”  She really didn’t want a stab wound in one of her wings.  But if she could get her wings free, then maybe, just maybe, she could get herself to the staircase her Father took her to two years ago and get up to the roof.  From there, she would jump.  She had no idea if her wings could actually bear her body in flight, but she was willing to die trying if it meant she could free herself from this laboratory prison.

            Elation soared as the knife blade met rope, and she began cutting her wings free.  The knife was alarmingly sharp and she was half way through the thick rope when the force it was containing holding her wings pinned back to back behind her snapped the rest of the threads, and her wings sprang free.  Hissing as returning blood flow sent every nerve ending through each wing into agony, she held her shuddering wings as the numb feeling from being tied so tightly receded. 

            Another body landed beside her, coming dangerously close to crushing her.  Scrambling to her feet, she turned toward the mayhem within the lab.  It was a sea of large, dark shapes surging and dashing about, and she even swore she heard the clang of steal against steal as swords flashed in a random beam from a flashlight.  A bust of gunfire light up the whole lab, and …was that a flash of green as the firing mercenary went sailing across the room from a huge kick to smash up hard against the wall behind him?  It was a sea she would have to cross if she wanted to make it to the roof. 

            Bracing herself, cuffed hands clenching into tight fists, she waded into the fray.

            “I’m reading multiple heat signatures coming from the floors below us!”

            “How many, Don!”

            “Too many!”

            “Raph, grab the girl.”

            Something moved into her path and she couldn’t check her forward momentum in time before she bounced into something akin to a moving mountain.  Before she could blink, two hands gripped her around the waist, and she was hauled up against a warm body.

            And then she was being moved alarmingly fast through the lab and out into the hall.  Panic lit her mind up like detonated explosion.  She went crazy, fighting back with everything she had left in her.  Biting. Clawing.  A jab of her elbow backward connected with something soft enough to cause a grunt.  Wings beat out around her.

            “Would you pipe down!”  Her assailant growled at her.

            Pipe down!  Pipe down!!  This was her last chance at freedom.  She could feel it in every fiber of her being.  If The General or Dr. Greyson managed to stop her before she could escape, this time they would lock her down so tightly, hope would be but a word she learned long ago in one of her Father’s lessons.  This time, they would break her mind, take away everything that made her who she was.

            “Leo!  She won’ stop fightin’ me!  Somethin’s gonna break, and it ain’t gonna be a part of me.”

            “We don’t have time for this, Leonardo.  In two point three minutes, we will be surrounded by odds ten to one.”

            “Hey, anglecakes!  Everything is totally cool!  You just gotta calm down, babe!”

            But nothing was registering in her mind except the blind hysteria to be free from the unrelenting hold keeping her from running down the hall toward the stairwell that would take her to the roof.

            A blinding light suddenly blinked on right into her face.  “Scans are showing an alarmingly elevated heart rate and blood pressure, rapid eye movement off the charts.  This is beyond panic, this is hysteria.”

            Something snagged hold of her chin in an unrelenting grip. 

           “Stop moving!”

           She froze at the iron command in the growled words, conditioned over the last two years to yield to orders.  Her mind narrowed to a pinpoint focus as her vision cleared of the hysteria induced haze, and for a moment, all she saw was a blue so clear and intense it was like looking into a cloudless mid-day sky.  Twice she had seen such a sky.  Father had shown her such images, photo’s she thought were so gorgeous and full of rich color they couldn’t possibly be real. 

 _Imagine flying through the sky some day, Feronia.  Nothing but open air and the sky above you so blue it rivals the very seas.  I swear to you, baby girl, you_ will _fly free some day._

_We can fly together, Father!_

           As the sudden memory receded, she realized the pools of clear blue were a pair of intense eyes that held hers so completely she couldn’t tear her gaze away. 

           The fight drained out of her.

           “Good girl.”

            Rarely did she hear praising words, or receive kindness of any kind, for that matter.  The sensation that sputtered and flickered to life somewhere deep within her was so foreign, she couldn’t figure out what the hell it was.

            That’s when she realized the man who gripped her face in such an unrelenting grasp was not quite a man.  Those two pools of deep blue were framed by a sash-like mask of a slightly deeper blue wrapped around a smooth-domed, green-skinned head.  Eyes widening, she took in his blunt…nose?  She assumed it was a nose.  There were two breathe holes that sure seemed to function as a nose set into a subtle nose-bridge as the man before her huffed to catch his breath.  He had a wide mouth framed by full, firm looking lips.  And he was green.   Did she mention he was green?

            “Listen closely.  We are getting you out of here, miss.  And it would be easiest on everyone if you didn’t fight us the entire way.  Can you do that?”

            She nodded.  Or tried to, anyway.  His intense grip holding her so still she could barely move her head, she swallowed thickly.  “Yes.”

            Those blue eyes finally broke their hold on her as they flicked to a point above her head.  “Set her down, Raph.”

            Instantly, she was lowered until her bare feet touched the smooth hallway floor once more. 

            In the darkness of the hallway, she rose to her full height, tucking her cuffed hands closer against her stomach, the warmth of her wings pressing tightly against her back.  She was surrounded by four such men; towering, hulking shapes of men, each carrying a domed frame on their back.  What kind of gear did they store in there? But she couldn’t truly get a decent look at them, and at the moment, she could care less what they looked like.  It seemed she had allies, and that was all she needed to know.

            “Holy cow, babes!  That outfit really doesn’t hide much does it?  She’s so hooootttttt…”

            “Cool it, Mikey.”  The one behind her snapped.

            “I can’t help it!  Rescuing a winged angel from evil government scientists brings out my romantic side.”

            “Donatello, which of our exit plans are still functional?”  The blue masked one asked to the form to her left.

            She glanced over and tilted her head up.  And up.  This man was even taller than the first, with antennae’s and other gadgets sprouting from his head.  What kind of creature was he?  As she watched, he tapped quickly on a pad strapped to his left bicep, and an image sprang forth, illuminated their little circle.

            “We can’t go down the way we came up.  And my scans show several mercs waking up in the lab behind us.”

             A sudden spray of gunfire ricocheted about the hallway.

            “Guys, close in!”

            Feronia found herself completely enclosed by four massive men as they encircled her completely, their bulk shielding her from any gun fire.

            “Hey, brah!  Can’t we get those things off her wrists?”

            “It will take me more time than our current situation would permit.  I can do it once we are back at the lair.  I have tools in my lab.”

            There was a low boom from down the hallway, and something heavy clunked against the floor by their feet.

            “Nobody breathe!  The gas will knock you out!”  Feronia managed to gasp just as the gas grenade began to hiss, smoke exploding from it and completely shrouding them in a fog so thick she could barely see two feet in front of her.  Dropping to her knees, she crawled out from between them, blindly reaching for the wall with her cuffed hands.  Tears streamed from her eyes as the fog burned her vision, but she forced them open as she felt her way along the wall.

            Her seeking hands bumped into a small red box.  _Yes!_ Pulling the lever, water began pelting them from above, swirling the foggy smoke around them and driving it down.  Reaching out, she grabbed at one green muscled forearm, trying to yank whoever she snagged her way.

            Lungs burning in desperation for air, she turned and ran down the hallway away from the racket of gunfire, hoping that her four new allies would have the brains to follow her.  As she ran, she pumped her wings, gritting against the aching soreness and lancing pain from the battered limbs.  She was able to generate enough wind to clear the hallway around her as she ran, propelling the fog behind her.

            Still terrified to draw a breath, she pushed herself on.  If she succumbed to the sleep brought on by that gas, she knew The General and Dr. Greyson would get their hands on her again, and she wasn’t sure she would survive waking up in her chamber prison even one more time.  She didn’t look back, but raced to the end of the hallway.  Two years ago she took this same flight with her Father.  But they had a key card.

            Now, she slammed up against the metal door, beating against it frantically with her cuffed fists.  She had her plan of action thought out exactly this far.

            An arm slid under her wings to snag around her waist yet again, and her gaze flew to her left as a different hulking creature kicked forward, buckling in the steel door, the tails of the red bandana tied to his head flying forward from the force.  Reeling back, he kicked at the door again, the metal groaning as it buckled even further. 

            Spots began to swim before her eyes as her chest began heaving in an attempt to draw breath.  Darkness much more terrifying than that in the hallway encroached on the edge of her vision.

            The door suddenly slammed open, and she found herself carried up into the stairwell and toward the upper levels faster than was humanly possible. 

            Finally, she could take no more, and she opened her mouth to heave in a gasping, wheezing breath of air.  But she barely tasted the tranquilizer fog on her tongue. 

            The stairwell was even darker than the hallway below them had been.  So dark she might as well have been blind as she was carried up in bounding leaps to one landing after another.

            “Level twelve.”  She croaked out.  “We need level twelve.”

            Over the last two years, she had learned level twelve was where the offices of Dr. Greyson and his most elite scientists were.  The entire south wall that faced a stretch of unending, sparkling water was made up of floor to ceiling windows.  The best view for the best employees and heads of the company.

            A door was suddenly wrenched open, and they all piled out into the new hallway.  As she was set back on her feet, she spun around.  “Are we on level twelve?”

            A holo image once again lit up the darkness round them, the skeletal image of a building rotating on the screen.  “That is where we are, yes.”

            She turned to dart down the hallway, but a hand flashed out and snagged hold of her arm, stopping her momentum so suddenly she nearly fell had that steady hold on her arm not kept her easily on her feet.

            “Where are you going?”

            It was the one with the voice that commanded the others.  That had commanded her out of her panic attack.  “Four days ago,” she panted, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath, “at least I think it was four days ago, I tried escaping out the windows that make up one whole wall of this floor.  I broke the glass with a fire extinguisher, though I never managed to get out, obviously, before they caught me again.”

            She couldn’t help the shudder that raced through her from head to toe at the memories of the events her last escape triggered.  That was when The General was brought in to make her more _manageable_. 

            “I like her.”

            “Stow it, Raph.”  The leader clipped off.  “Miss, lead the way.”

            And with that, the heated grip he had on her arm fell away and she darted down the hall.  As she rounded the corner, she wondered if Dr. Greyson had managed to get the entire window replaced yet.  A strange sort of joy spiked through her as the wall of windows came into view, moonlight shining in through the panes.  Plastic fluttered in the wind over one section where a window should have been.

            “My scans are picking up what looks like scaffolding.  We could get down to the streets from there.”

            As the five of them ran to the windowed wall, she took the chance to glance at one of the men lopping beside her.  Utter shock drew her to a complete halt.  All four men had what looked like shells on their back.  And as they coordinated a quick, impromptu plan of escape, she took in their appearance.  It was as if someone had perfectly molded together the best features of man and…reptile?  No, that wasn’t quite right.  She saw something similar in one of her childhood books Father brought her, about a tortoise that raced a hare.  All four of them were tall men of slightly different heights, with green-skin from head to toe, scales scattering in certain places along arms and legs packed with powerful muscle.  Each had a bald green dome of a head like the blue-eyed leader did, except one with a purple mask on his face looked even more imposing with all the gear strapped to his shoulders, head, and shell.  It made him look the tallest. 

            The one in red wrapped around his entire forehead seemed built out of muscle packed onto muscle.  And the shortest of them all, but no less built, had an orange theme going on with his garb.

            As the plastic was torn down to reveal a metal scaffolding hanging on the other side, the blue-eyed leader turned to her.  “Raph and I are going to cover your back as Mikey and Donnie help you down to the street.”

            “Why aren’t we going to the roof?”  The roof always seemed like the way she had to escape.  It meant open air, a ledge she could jump from and discover just what her battered wings could do.

            But the man…turtle…was shaking his head.  “We need to get you somewhere safe where Donatello,”   he gestured to the gadget-sporting, shell-toting man who gave her a tiny wave and a gentle smile, “can check your injuries over and get those cuffs off your wrist.  I promise you, you are safe.”

            At her hesitation, he strode forward and crossed an arm over his chest, thumping one three fingered fist against his heart, dipping forward in a slight bow. 

            “I swear, you are safe.  We will not let them get their hands on you again, but we must move now.”

            There was such conviction underlying his words, she was inclined to believe this complete stranger. 

            She nodded as one of them held out a hand in an age old gentlemanly gesture.  “Angelcakes, the elevator is about to leave this floor.” 

            “My name is not _angelcakes._ ”  She ground out as she placed her cuffed hands in his, giving his orange-framed blue eyes a little glare.  “I have a name.”

            Moving out of the window first and onto the scaffolding, he helped her step out onto the platform.  Wind rushed up around her and she gasped at the sight of the city lights sparkling around the moonlit body of water.  It was the most gorgeous thing she had ever seen.  “Feronia.”  She replied.  “My name is Feronia.”

            “Well that’s interesting.”

            “What’s interestin, Don?”

            “Feronia is the Latin goddess of freedom.”

***


	4. Chapter Four

 

            Leonardo watched his youngest brother guide the winged human out onto the scaffolding.  Feronia, as she called herself, was a bit on the thin side.  A result of a lifetime of captivity, as he saw the same lack of muscle tone and body structure as animals raised in a zoo.  Plus he wasn’t exactly sure how well NexGen fed their top secret genetic experiment.  Although she was all angles and lanky limbs, she was rather short.  Even standing next to Mikey, who was the shortest among the brothers, her head came below his chin.

            As Feronia reached for Mikey’s proffered hand and stepped out the open window, a brisk breeze whistling through the city and cutting around the tall buildings that made up New York lifted the mass of tangled, black hair that tumbled over her shoulders and around her wings.  It was the look of utter fascination and wonder that tugged at his heart, a look only one who had rarely experienced such a simple sensation, the caress of wind over skin, could have.  But it was those eyes of hers, echoing the pure wonderment coursing through her, that floored him as she looked around.  Eyes of the most intense silver he had ever seen in his life.

            Shouts from the stairwell and Raph’s solid fist slugging against his arm to gain his attention wrenched him from his current thoughts as both Feronia and Mikey’s head snapped up, silver pools shimmering with sudden terror at the very real threat that she could be recaptured.

            Leo would die first.  Leveling two youngest his brothers a look rife with meaning, he reached over his head with both arms, the grip of his sword hilts fitting into each palm familiar as he pulled the katana’s free from their place on the back of his shell.  “Get her out of here, and fast.  Raph and I will catch up.”

            With a nod, Donnie jumped out of the window and onto the scaffolding.  “Mikey, time to take the express way down!”

            Before he turned away from the open window to face the mercs and Foot Clan soldiers that were mere moments away from bursting into the hallway, he saw Mikey encouraging Feronia to loop her bound hands over his head as he wrapped arm around her frame, wings and all.  “Hold on, Fer Bear!” 

            And with that, Mikey jumped, followed closely by Donatello’s tech riddled form.

            Moving into the hall next to the hulking form of his sai-wielding brother, the two mutant turtles created a living wall between the threat gunning after Feronia and the open window.  “We take out as many as we can, buy Don and Mikey as much time as possible.”

            “No one’s gettin’ past us.”   And with a flourishing twirl of the dangerous weapons he preferred, Raph charged down the hallway and into the spray of bullets, Leonardo right beside him.

***

            It was so incredibly exhilarating she couldn’t keep the squeal of delight in as the turtle humanoid wrapped one solid arm around her, wings and all, tucked her tight against him and literally leapt off of the scaffolding.  A kaleidoscope of city lights and the concrete and steel of the lab building whirled by, the rushing sound of wind loud in her ears, before the bulky man she clung to landed solidly on a concrete ledge of the NexGen building before gathering his legs and leaping yet again down several floors of the building to the next ledge.  Each sudden break in their downward momentum was jarring regardless of the band of muscle and sinew wrapped solidly around her.  Even the solid band of steel cuffs already too tightly clamped around her wrists dug further into skin.  Yet she could care less for the aches she felt in her body or the sharp stabs of pain from her cuffed wrists looped over the orange-masked man’s head.  It was all dwarfed by the elation that this was freedom – the smell of the city on the air, the sound of traffic far below them, the rush of wind past them lifting her hair, the mist of rain dampening skin and clothes.  And it was within her grasp. 

            With another jarring halt in their downward momentum, she thought of the two men who stayed behind to cover her escape and glanced up the wall to the scaffolding incredibly far above them already.  “Will they be okay?  If Dr. Grayston or The General captures them…”

            A pair of green-blue eyes turned toward her.  “Leo and Raph?  _Pfft!_ Those peons won’t drop Leo and Raph.  My brothers will catch up with us when they can.  Plus these?”  With a jerk of his head, he gestured to the large shell attached to his back behind his shoulders.  “They’re bullet proof.”

            There was a loud thud above them as a few chunks of concrete rained down about them, the man she clung to jerking his body and turning them both so the hard chunks of concrete bounced harmlessly off the shell on his back. 

            “Dude, Donnie!  Watch where you’re landing up there, brah!”

            Just as she opened her mouth to reply, he leapt again and they were plummeting downward to a street below.  It was their farthest drop yet, and the street between the NexGen building and the building next door seemed rather _narrow_.  Alarmingly narrow.   Heart jumped into her throat as she watched a stretch of pavement rush up to meet them.  Involuntarily, her cuffed hands scrambled for some sort of purchase while linked around his smooth, green-domed head.  Finding a strap running up his shell and over his left shoulder, she clutched with white knuckled intensity.

            “Relax, babe!  We do this all the time.”

            “Really?”  she managed on a gasp.  Black strands of hair suddenly snagged across her vision and she jerked her head to try and dislodge them.  “You go plummeting down the side of buildings regularly?”

            With an _oof_ , he landed solidly on the rough surface of the paved street, knees bending instinctively to absorb the shock.  Before straightening, one big hand gently gripped her arm and lifted her linked arms over his head.  “Yup!  It’s like our thing.  Our M.O.”

            As she gained her balance, the orange-masked humanoid straightened to his full height, and she looked up as he towered over her easily by an entire head.  Though he wasn’t obscenely tall…she had seen some of the lab techs that worked for Dr. Greyston tower over her at even greater heights where she barely came up to their arm pits. 

            “I see.  N-now what?” she asked, suddenly finding the image of the buildings on either side of them blur.  Blinking, she raised her cuffed hands to try and rub at her eyes, only to feel something warm and sticky smear across her face.

            “Oh no, babes!  Fer Bear!”

            A thud beside them announced the one called Donnie.  Hurriedly resetting his glasses more firmly on his face, he reached for her.  “Mikey, those cuffs must have cut further into her wrists on the way down.”

            Ah, so the orange-masked one was named Mikey.  But it was getting harder to think as she held her hands out into the dim light of a street lamp.  They were covered in crimson.

            “I didn’t mean to!”

            “It’s not your fault, just catch her! No, wait, I got her.  Let’s get out of here!  I need to get to my lab.”

            As the world spun and she felt her knees buckle, all she could think about was that horrible word ringing through her mind over and over as the cloak of unconsciousness began to sweep over her.  _No! Not another lab!_

            And then she was aware of no more.

***

            When he next laid eyes on her, she was completely unconscious, laying face down on a table in Donnie’s lab.  His quick-thinking brother must have thought to call April, because by the time he and Raphael made it back to the lab, a little worse for wear themselves, they had that ridiculous suit on Feronia removed and the young woman laying face down on a table cushioned with several blankets.  Two smaller tables were drawn alongside the one they had laid her on so her black, indigo tinted wings, in her unconscious state, wouldn’t just droop down on either side to the floor.  She was covered in another sheet, the fabric drawn over her form until it came to the rise of the wing limbs running from her back.  Each wrist was wrapped with a thick layer of gauze with hints of red beginning to blotch through the material. 

            As Leonardo pushed his way through the doorway of Donnie’s lab, he heard April arguing heatedly with his brother and Splinter, and found the trio standing by the wall of monitors on the far side of the work space.  Holding a hand to his side over a wound he received from a lucky blow landed by a Foot Clan goon, he crossed the room, his eyes running over the unconscious form on the table. 

            “She needs a doctor.  You ever said she lost a lot of blood from those wrists.”

            “But I stopped the bleeding, and when she wakes, can start a regimen of iron supplementation to help her body replenish blood cells.  Isn’t bringing yet another person into this too much of a risk?”

            “And treating her down in a sewer is not exactly sanitary, Donnie!”

            His approach finally drew their attention. 

            April gasped, rushing to his side in concern.  “Are you injured too?”

            With a reassuring smirk, he shook his head.  “Just a nick.”  Raising his head, he caught his brothers gaze behind those thick glasses.  “Raph has a few too.  Why not toss me one of those bandages and some of that ointment you concocted up, Don, and then go see to Raph.”

            With a curt nod from his brainiac brother, he caught the package of bandages in one hand and the container of ointment in the other before lowering himself gingerly to a chair.  A large rat hand settled on his shoulder.

            “April, would you please go bring a bowl of warm water and a cloth from our kitchen?”  Waiting until April slipped back through Donnie’s lab door to procure the items Master Splinter requested, his Sensai moved to stand in front of him.  “My son, those at the lab?”

            Leo shook his head.  “No one followed us.  Raph and I minimized as many casualties as we could.  But…”  These were the moments he hated; when there could be no way his Sensai wouldn’t be disappointed.  But his father waited with that unending patience of his for his son to finish.  With a sigh, Leo sank bank into the reclining chair they had scavenged a few months ago.  “But…I have no confirmation on this one called The General or Dr. Grayston and whether or not we managed to stop them.  We’ll have to talk to Casey and see what the NYPD found…they showed up just as we had everything under control.”

            The large rat gave a single nod of his head.  “Very good, my son.  I am proud of you all today.”

            April made it back to the lab with a bowl of steaming water balanced between two hands and a clean towel draped over one arm.  The human was indeed attractive, with long brown hair and pretty hazel eyes, not to mention a figure that perfect for Hollywood.  But she was like a sister to him and his brothers, and nothing more.  Much to Mikey’s chagrin.

            She moved with a fluid grace toward the used reclining chair he sat in, setting the bowl down.  Dipping the towel into the water, she leaned in to get a look at the gash from a sword that managed to slip in between the stretch of skin between plastron on shell.  Being built not quite like turtles but not quite like humans, there were a few weak spots an opponent could get to. 

            Leo would just have to train harder.

            “Sorry if this hurts, Leo.”  April muttered as she cleaned the wound.

            Barreling back into the lab, Donnie tossed his hands up in the air.  “I try to lend a hand with his injuries, and Raph just gets more pissy.  You know, he doesn’t have to be so rude about it!”  Pausing as he came to a stop near Splinter, he folded his arms over his chest.  “I left him with the stuff.  If he wants to be a Neanderthal, then he can take care of his own injuries.”

            Shaking his head, Splinter began moving toward the lab door.  “I will tend to Raph, but it is in moments such as these that you four need each other most.”  Pausing at the door, he turned back, and the look Splinter leveled at Leo shook him to his core.  “I will not always be around for you, my sons.”

            And with that, Splinter slipped out of the door, his tail trailing behind him.

            “I hate it when he does that.”   Donnie muttered.

            “I agree, but he is right, Donnie.  We need to learn to work together _off_ the battlefield too.”  Glancing down, he watched April spread a thick layer of the healing ointment Donnie concocted up before beginning to tape a thick gauze over the goop.  “So, what about her.  How bad is she?”  Leonardo asked, gesturing with his head over to the unconscious form of the winged human laying on the tables behind them.

            “She needs a doctor.  At the very least, I should bring someone here!”  April tossed out.

            With a sigh, Donnie picked up a notebook, paging through several pages of notes he created to help him analyze and diagnose the state of their newest guest.  “I have no idea how old she is, but I am guessing late teens, early twenties.”

            “Her injuries, Donnie.”  Leo directed, standing as April finished and moved to begin cleaning up the soiled towel and discard the now pinkish water.  Moving, he made his way toward the winged human, eyes flitting over her form as if he could help diagnose any problems Donatello couldn’t find.

            “Well, April got rid of that ghastly outfit Feronia had on and cleaned her up before covering her so I could work on her.  There are no major injuries like broken bones or torn muscles.  Although, her body is riddled with a myriad of electrical burns, some minor scrapes and abrasions.  Her wrists were the most worrying…on the way down the NexGen building, those odd cuffs dug into the tissue enough to elicit some alarming bleeding.   But any bleeding has been stopped.  I would just worry whether she would be anemic until her body can replenish the blood cells it needs.  Those cuffs were interesting…some sort of electronically sealed latch that would only activate with the proper synched control devise, but I managed to hack the signal they were emitted.  It wasn’t overly difficult, thankfully, since she was bleeding all over the place at the time.”

            As Donnie listed off what he found as his brother treated her, Leo felt rage grow until it was simmering just beneath the surface.   How someone could be treated like this, regardless of their origins, made him question humanity and why they fought to protect it.  Only months ago he and his brothers risked exposure by teaming up with the NYPD to stop the threat of an alien invasion by a creature called Krang.  And for what?

            “Do you really think she needs more medical attention than we have here?”  Leo asked.

            With a shrug, Donnie pushed his glasses back onto his face.  “I make sure to sterilize everything I use.  I am not an idiot, you know.  Even that table she is laying on was scrubbed down well, and the bedding is clean.  She lost a lot of blood, but not so much to warrant a transfusion, I think.  I am not sure I would risk it…I mean the odds of exposure increase by 24.523 percent the more people that are brought in on her existence , at least until we know more—“

            A scream rent through the lab and suddenly Feronia’s form was heaving off of the table, wings flapping weakly as she slipped off the table’s edge and landed hard on the floor, the covering sheet fluttering down to tangle around her legs.  “Not a lab!  No, not a lab!”  Heaving to her feet only to go tripping and careening into one of the book cases Donnie had cluttered with gadgets and various projects, it tilted alarmingly as Donnie went springing toward it to try and catch it before it fell, objects clattering and breaking across the floor like odd baubles.  A sweep of a wing connected with one of the hanging light bulbs strung about the lab, and with a pop, glass showered down around her naked form.

            Leo caught a flash of her eyes as the young woman spun about only to go slamming up against another solid table made from heavy pieces of scrap metal, another agonized scream wrenching from there throat as she looked wildly about.  He had seen that same wild-eyed look in those wide, frightened silvery pools when Raph had hauled her out of the fight in the NexGen lab. 

            _Shit, she was going to hurt herself._ Thinking fast, Leo stalked forward and swept her up against him, one arm around her waist under her wings.  With his free hand, he tried to snag hold of one of her flinging arms, trying to avoid adding more trauma to the newly healing wrists by aggravating wounds that had only just recently stopped bleeding.

            “Feronia!  Stop!”

            The panic haze clouding those fear-widened eyes didn’t lesson. 

            Letting go of the arm he had snagged and fisting a hand in the black tangles of her hair, he tightened his hold and forced her face up to his.  “ _Look at me!_ ”  And he poured every ounce of command into those three words that he ever used as his role as leader.

            For a moment she went stiff and unyielding against him, frantic breathing halted mid breath, wings stiff and shuddering.  Like nightly frost on a window pane retreating at the greeting warmth of a new sun, the fear and panic in her eyes cleared.   He didn’t release his hold on her hair. 

            Tightening his fist so that she _felt_ his old, he held her gaze unrelentingly.  “Are you with me?”

            He felt her try to nod, but finding no quarter in his grip, she swallowed thickly.  “Yes.”

***


	5. Chapter Five

            Slowly coming to, Feronia blinked as her mind sluggishly pulled itself from slumber’s hold.  This time, waking up was much gentler as memories instantly surfaced, and the explosion of panic never came.

            Her gaze flitting blearily about her surroundings, she recognized the same room she had been in before, only this time she wasn’t facedown.  Shifting, Feronia found herself propped half up on a bed with a mound of soft pillows and blankets packed and tucked under her back in such a way her body wasn’t pinning her wings and the aviary limbs could rest in a relaxed position comfortably.  Well, as comfortably as one could sleep in such a position with a pair of six foot wings growing from their back, anyway.

            This time, she remembered where she was.  The men who had helped her escape had brought her here, a place that was supposedly a safe haven.  All that mattered was that it was not the lab at NexGen – and hopefully far, far away from that awful place. 

            Continuing her perusal of the room, she took in brick walls and steel support structures, and as her gaze slowly swung to her right…a large, dark-green form.  There, half slumped in a large reclining chair that looked like it had seen better days, an elbow propped up on an armrest  and his head resting on a closed fist, slept the blue-masked man…turtle…an open book in his lap as if he had been reading before dozing off.  He was the one who managed to snap her out of her fright the first time she awoke.  What was his name…Neo?  No.  Leo?  Something like that, anyway.

            Shifting, she winced as abused muscles protested.  Rather vehemently.

            In a blink the man jerked awake and was on his feet.

            “You’re awake!  Finally.”  Shutting the book with a _snap_ , he reached back to set it on a nearby table.  “I was reading to you while you slept.”

            And then just as she remembered, those eyes of intense blue caught and held hers, and Feronia couldn’t look away if she tried.

            “How do you feel?  Do you need anything?  Maybe I should get Donnie or April,” he finished more to himself.

            Swallowing, she realized just how dry her mouth felt. 

            “Thirsty.”  Feronia managed on a rather pathetic croak. 

            The dark, green-skinned man didn’t need to be told twice.  One large hand engulfing a water bottle from the table, he twisted the cap off and then carefully brought the open mouth to her lips, his other hand cupping the back of her head to help her lean forward a tad.  Managing to extricate her right arm from beneath the mound of blankets she seemed practically buried in, she reached for the plastic bottle with a shaking, gauze covered hand. 

            Cool liquid rushed over her parched tongue and down a throat so dry Feronia was certain she had never tasted anything more divine.  She drank greedily, uncaring of the occasional trickle that escaped out of the corner of her lips to run down her chin.

            “Easy now,” he muttered, all too soon taking the bottle away, her arm plopping back down onto the top of the blanket.  “I think drinking too fast might make your stomach revolt.  We’ll take it slow, okay?”

            With a nod, she accepted the bottle as it was lifted to her lips again, this time resisting the urge to glug the refreshing liquid down.   For the next few minutes, silence settled around them as he focused on helping her drink most of the water.

            Turning, the green-skinned, turtle-looking man set the empty bottle back on the table before turning around to run an assessing gaze over her prone form as she took the moment to study him in kind.  Being without clothing from the waist up, her gaze flitted over wide shoulders, muscled arms that rippled with even the slightest movement, powerful looking thighs encased in black cargo pants that sat low on his hips, and a brown chest distinctly defined by the cut of lean strength.  Feronia’s brow furrowed as she studied the man’s chest, watching it shift and move as he breathed, noticing that the flesh there seemed thicker, more protective.  And of course his most defining feature, which she could not have missed; the large shell that covered his back, running from lower back to rise above his shoulders nearly level with his domed head.

            Glancing up, she found her gaze trapped by the intense blue of his again, made even more distinctive by the deep blue mask framing his eyes, a smirk lifting the corners of his wide lips at her obvious perusal of his form.  “Who are you?” she blurted before she could rein the words in, her voice marginally less gruff than before.

            His smirk transformed into a wide, genuine smile that was reflected in the sapphire pools of his eyes as he folded his height back into the chair.  “ _What are you_ is the question most people open with when they question about…” With a sweep of one arm, he gestured to the expanse of his body.  “…us.  Not _who_.”

            Feeling a sudden cramping twinge in a muscle in her back, one she knew was essential to the function of the wings she had been created with, Feronia shifted in the mound of pillows, trying to move the half buried wing enough to alleviate the afflicted portion of her back.  “Screw that.  I spent a lifetime of people referring to me as nothing more than an object to further the purpose of science.  I’m not about to do that to someone who has unique characteristics as well.  Someone who helped me escape NexGen,.”  Finding no solution to relieving the cramping muscle, she sank back down before leveling him a look full of all the gratitude toward him and his brothers that was brimming over.  “I can’t thank you enough.  All of you.”

            With one hand, mindful of the bandaging around her damaged wrists, she started shoving the blanket covering her to the side.

            “No need to thank us.  It’s what we do.  But to answer your question…My name is Leonardo, if you remember.  Leo for short.  My brothers and I, we’re ninja’s.  And we’re turtles.  Technically we originated from turtles…what are you doing… _are you trying to get out of bed_??”

            Clutching the thin sheet that was under the blanket against her chest to cover her nakedness, she tried to eradicate herself from what she was certain was a drowning pool of soft, fluffy pillows.  “Yes.  I did not escape from that lab only to lie like a weakling in bed.   Besides, my wing is cramping deep in my back.  I need to get up.  And I, uh, really need a bathroom.”

            Leonardo shot back to his feet.  “I should go get Apirl.   She has been spending the last couple of days working with Donnie trying to alter some clothes to fit you and accommodate your wings –”

            “ _Last couple of days?”_ Feronia parroted, pausing just as she was about to swing her legs over the side of the bed and test out just whether her legs would hold her or not.  “How long was I out?”

            “Two days since you first came to and knocked over half of Donnie’s stuff in his lab.”

            She winced.  “Yeah…sorry about that.”

            “Don’t be.  You had just gone through some rather crazy stuff.  Stay put, I’ll be right back.  April was just out in the lair.”  Turning, the tall, shelled man took a step toward the door of the room.

            “Look, before you go, can you just show me where the bathroom is?”  Clutching the sheet about her with one hand, she shoved off the edge of the bed.  Her feet hit the floor, and instantly her knees threatened to buckle. 

            There was a blur, and then a solid, warm arm was sliding under her wings to settle around her waist. 

            Feronia cursed, instinctively reaching with her free hand, her grasp finding purchase on a green shoulder that might as well have been hewn from stone.  If stone was encased in textured, warm skin, that is. 

            “I’m getting you back in that bed.”  Leonardo bit off, his voice lowering.

            “Wait!”  Her grip tightened, halting his movement just as it looked like he was going to pick her back up and put her back in that mound of pillows.  “I just need a moment, and I really, really, really need that bathroom.  Please?”

            Nodding, his arm around her waist tightened a split second before he finished stooping over, plucking her up as if she barely weighed anything.  “Then I’ll take you there.  The bathroom is down a tunnel off the main lair.”

            As Leo crossed Donnie’s lab in a few long strides, Feronia got an up close look at his chest.  He was built more similarly to a man, with two well formed pectorals and a series of abdominal muscles that ran down a taught stomach.  The only main difference was that his brown skin or flesh here seemed thicker, like leather or hide. 

            He stopped at the door, jerking her from her thoughts as he glanced down at her, shifting her slightly in his hold.  “You might want to brace yourself.”

            “For what?”  She asked, clutching the sheet closer to her with the hand not thrown around Leo’s shoulders.

            With a smirk, Leo gave the door a kick, the thick metal swinging open, and stepped through the doorway.

            “Fer Bear!  You’re awake!  Oh my god, guys, she’s awake!”

            There was a dull thud.  “We can see that, Mikey.”

            “Ow, Raph!  What was that for!  I’m only excited to see our gorgeous guest awake, and obviously not freaking out like last time.”

            Leo didn’t slow his pace, carrying her swiftly through a huge room that toward high above them, stepping over a bridge that crossed a rushing stream of water.  The space was well lit and filled with so many things she couldn’t process it all before Leonardo was carrying her down a large tunnel.  She was almost reluctant to leave that main room.  It seemed so alive with colors and lights, the sound of rushing water like a melody in the background.

            The tunnel ended with another door that Leo nudged open, stepping through to another room fashioned from the large metal tunnel.   A bench ran along one wall, and a plastic cabinet sat next to it.  The floor was one giant grate with a couple mats tossed down to protect feet.  Setting her down gently to her feet, he kept his arm around her waist as he pointed at several knobs on the wall.  In one corner sat a toilet and a sink.

            “Donnie built a filtration and heating unit to clean and heat rainwater that drains down from the city above us, and piped it into this tunnel he set up to function as a shower.  The water you saw out in the lair?  Donnie has that filtered as well, somehow.  Don’t ask me how.  He told me once, but I didn’t quite get it all.  My brother tends to use really large, complicated words when he is excited about something.”

            In short order, he pointed out what knobs turned on hot or cold water, and what levers turned on more jet streams or how to make the water flow down like a mini waterfall.  “The plastic cabinet there has soaps and such, though none of us have hair so hopefully you can find something that works.  And there are towels on the bottom shelf.  I’ll have April, wait…do you remember April?”

            Feronia shook her head. 

            “She is a close and trusted friend.  More like a sister to my brothers and I, so you don’t have to be afraid of her.  But I will have her come check on you and see if the clothes she has been modifying with Donnie will fit.”

            Now that she was on her feet, Feronia realized just how tall he was.  Her head just came to mid shoulder on him.  Yet with all the strength and power harnessed in every movement, he handled her with utmost care.

            With a final reassuring smile, the warmth of Leonardo’s arm left her waist and he slipped from the room, shutting the door behind him.

Pausing before shutting the door behind him, he turned back to turn those intense sapphire-blue eyes to her.  “And I won’t be far, if you need me.  Okay?”

           “Okay.”

           As the door shut behind him, she turned back toward the wash room.

            With more excitement than she could contain, Feronia tossed the covering sheet to a corner of the room and began twisting knobs and fiddling with levers, more happy than she had ever been to finally get a real, true shower with no prying eyes.

***


	6. Chapter Six

            If Feronia had thought that the strangest experience she would have would be running into four towering green men who originated from turtles as she attempted yet another escape from the NexGen Labs, she was greatly mistaken.  No, sitting cross-legged on the edge of a round dais so that her wings had room to hang past her sitting form located in the central part of the large lair she had been carried through a few hours earlier, a bowl of rich chicken and noodle soup clutched between two hands while listening to a walking, talking rat regale her of his and his son’s origins was by far the oddest experience to date.  The rat, named Splinter, took her on an incredible journey with his tale; how he was naught but an _actual_ , normal, non-verbal rat, and the four shell-backed men sitting on the floor below the dais had been simple, itty-bitty baby box turtles.  How they had been part of a laboratory project at a company called Sacks Industries for a project to produce powerful antibodies that would have been universal to many infecting agents.  April’s father was one of the lead researchers, and she had spent many an hour as a child waiting for her father to finish the next set of bioengineered injections to give the test animals in the lab. 

            “I thought of all the animals in that lab as my pets, to be honest.  I gave them all names, including…”  April, sitting on the dais with Feronia, gestured at the guys waiting patiently below them.  “…including these guys.  And I named them all after famous Italian renaissance painters.”  

            At the blank look Feronia turned to April, the woman waved a hand dismissively in the air.  “I’ll catch you up on history later.  But you have Leonardo in the blue, Raphael sporting red, Donatello in purple, and Michelangelo who loves his orange.  During an accident at the lab, everything started on fire and it wasn’t until years later that I found out Sacks killed my father.  Anyway, before building security saved me from a similar fate as my father, I rushed about the lab and stuffed what animals I could in a container.  All that I managed to grab was one rat, and four baby box turtles.  Once I found myself outside, all I could think of was letting the animals go, so I took them to a storm drain on the street outside the lab.”

            Moving the soup bowl to her knee and carefully balancing the liquid filled bowl, Feronia gestured with her spoon at the four masked men.  “How is it you all went from rat,” she asked, spoon pointing at Splinter, “and turtles,” the spoon swung to the four sitting on the floor near the dais, “to four towering men that all have serious skill in wielding swords and uh…sticks and forks?”

            “Hey!  They’re nunchucks!”

            “And technically, although I made some modifications and enhancements, mine is called a bo-staff.”

            “They’re not forks.  They’re sai’s!  And they’re better than all of theirs.”

            “I still say nunchucks are more versatile, brah!”

            “Then why do you have so many scars from practice, Mikey?”

            “Guys!”  Our Sensai is trying to tell our new guest the story of our beginning.  So cut it out.”

            With a warm look glittering in his large dark eyes, Splinter shifted his attention toward the four turtles, one hand running through the long whiskers that framed the end of his muzzle.  “What Sacks and April’s father did not know is that instead of antibodies, a mutagen was created in our blood.  Although I could not speak before the night of the fire, my intelligence was already growing to the point where I understood perfectly what was said around me.  It wasn’t until a few months after being released to the storm sewers below New York City’s streets that the mutagen in our blood began to have drastic and alarming results.  We all changed.  And that is when I found myself with not just four baby turtles, but four baby turtle-boys as they changed and grew to walk and talk and look almost like human boys.  I knew they would need someone to care for them, so I raised them as my sons.”

            As Splinter continued his tale, Feronia was floored.  Although these people spent their entire lives living in secret beneath the streets of New York, they grew up as a family.  With a loving father who, after teaching himself the art of ninjutsu, passed that knowledge onto his four unique sons so they would have a way to defend themselves.  But the strict training didn’t only make them strong in body, but also in mind.  And although he pushed them in their training to the brink of physical limits, he loved them all dearly.

            The only kindness she had been shown was by her father, who she fully understood wasn’t truly her father, but one senior staff scientist heading the project that created her existence who chose to treat her with kindness, treat her as an actual person and not as just an object or just a research subject. 

            “I am most proud of my sons, for they rose from mere ninja’s in training to guardians of this city and protectors of the innocent.  And, Feronia, child.  Do not forget your soup, for you must regain your strength.”

            Her gaze flew down to the bowl of chicken and noodles swimming in a golden broth, nearly knocking the bowl off its precarious perch on her knee.   “Oh yeah, sorry,” she mumbled before carefully filling up a spoonful and dipping her head down to bring it to her mouth.  Rich flavor bloomed across her tongue, and she gave an audible groan.  “This is the best food I have ever tasted in years.  Thank you, uh…Sensai Splinter?”

            The rat nodded sagely.  “Or Master Splinter when we are training.”

            “Soup’s not the best food, babe!  Pizza is the greatest thing on this planet!”

            But Feronia barely heard Mikey’s declaration.  She was focused on what Splinter had just said.  “Train me?” she parroted.

            Nodding his head, ears twitching, Splinter studied her as he ran a hand through his beard in contemplation.  “Yes, I believe I would like to help you build strength back and to learn a few skills to defend yourself as well.  In time, of course.  Your wounds need time to heal fully first.”

            Feronia quickly swallowed down a mouthful of soup.  “Train me to be a ninja too?” 

            Splinter shook his head, negating her question.  “You are destined for something far different than a ninja.  Your wings, child, give you an element that no one else in the world has, and I believe together we can find elements of fighting styles from different cultures and fashion something completely unique for you to learn.  Is that something you would wish to do?”

            Her mind was racing with possibilities.  To be able to fight back?  Or to help others somehow?  “Of course.  I have never discovered if I can fly.  I _will_ fly some day.”

            If a giant rat could smile, Splinter was grinning at her right then.  “That determination is what saw you out of your old life at NexGen, and into a whole new journey ahead of you.  You will go far, my child.  Now eat your soup, and one of my sons will show you to where you can rest.  Tomorrow, many decisions must be made, and perhaps you will share with us your history.”

            And just like that, story time was over as Splinter rose to his hind legs and moved off the dais, slipping through the large lair toward a side chamber.

            There was a whirl above her, and then Michelangelo landed on the dais before her with a  thud, startling her so bad she nearly upended her full bowl of soup.

            Lowering to his haunches, orange-framed light-blue eyes peered at her.  “You seriously have never had pizza?”

            “Uh…what is it?”

            “What is it?  _What is it?!?_ ”

            A black, cloth covered leg came into view beside Mikey’s hunkered form, and with a hard nudge, sent the turtle off the edge of the dais.  “You can grill her about pizza later, Mikey.”

            “But, Leo!  She doesn’t know what pizza is!”  Springing to his feet unfazed, Mikey pointed at her with one large finger before gesturing to himself.  “You and me, girl…we’re having pizza tomorrow.   You’ll never be the same again!”

            Of that, Feronia was certain.  The one called Leonardo replaced Michelangelo’s place, and she found herself pinned by those intense, cobalt blue eyes.

            “Finish up that soup, and April and I will show you that spare room we set up for when April needs to crash here for a bit.”

            Nodding, Feronia dove into her soup with more vigor, and soon she was bringing the lip of the bowl to her lips to tip her head back and down the final remnants of broth.  True to his word, once she was done, Leo handed the empty bowl off to a hovering Mikey, and with April led her through the lair to yet another side chamber.  Swinging open the door, he gestured for her to move through the doorway before him.  Tucking her wings tight to her back, she stepped into the room. 

             It was much smaller than Donatello’s lab, but there was a bed near the far wall, a side table to the left of the bed, and paper lanterns strung up along the ceiling in every color of the rainbow, casting the room in an array of colorful lights.  She was at a loss of words…for too long the only comforts that had been allowed to her was the coldness of white tile and cold lighting.

            “Move aside, you big lug,” April announced.

            Feronia turned to see the taller, slim woman shoulder past the six foot turtle filling up the bedroom doorway, a small pile of clothes balanced in her arms. 

            “These are the clothes Donnie and I have for you so far.  I can go shopping tomorrow for clothing that will fit better, though all your shirts will have to be modified first to fit around your wings.”  Setting them down on top of the side table near the bed, April turned with a kind smile.  “You are in good hands, Feronia.  Trust me.  These guys are the nicest guys you will ever meet.  I’ll be back first thing tomorrow evening to see how you are doing and to bring more clothes.”

            The only thing she seemed to be able to do was nod as the woman crossed the bedroom and stepped through the doorway, pausing to gain Leonardo’s attention.  Crossing his muscled arms across his chest, his smooth-domed green head turned to the woman leaving.

            “Casey should be coming with me tomorrow.  He’ll know more about what the police found after they arrived at NexGen once you guys were out of there.

            “Thank you, April.”

            And with that, the woman turned to leave, flicking her long brown hair back over one shoulder as she disappeared out into the large lair.

            “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to come find one of us,”  Leo began, turning aside in the doorway to gesture through the lair to where each of the brothers rooms were located, and where Splinter spent most of his time.  Most of their rooms were on the opposite side of the lair.  “I’ll have Donnie stop by in a few minutes to check your bandages before you crash for the night.”

            Not knowing what to say and knowing a mere _thank you_ would never be enough, she nodded in agreement. 

            With a last lingering look from the six feet of muscled turtle that she didn’t yet know how to interpret, Leonardo backed out of the room and Feronia found herself alone.  In the silence that followed, she slowly turned toward the bed.  It was huge, larger than the one she woke up in earlier, with a light brown comforter neatly spread on top and several cozy looking pillows leaning up against a wooden headboard. 

            As she ran her hand along the top of the soft comforter, she realized this would be the first night since she could remember that she would be able to sleep without the prying eyes of surveillance cameras or the presence of armed guards standing just outside her chamber door.  No white-coated scientists would be coming to draw blood and take other samples from her, no trips to the lab to undergo other tests, or to be tortured until her mind broke.  She could shut the door and have absolute privacy.

            A bubble of laughter spilled past her lips and she turned, jumping up and plopping onto her back in the middle of the bed, wings spread out wide so she wouldn’t be pinning the aviary limbs with her body.  The room wasn’t big enough by far for her to completely stretch out her wingspan to its full glory, but she wasn’t sure she could even if she wanted to.   Feronia could feel the aching soreness of the wounds from the rope that had bound her wings so tightly behind her only days ago.

            As if thinking of her injuries produced his appearance, a little knock on the open bedroom door had her pushing up to a half-sit to see Donatello filling the doorway.

            “Um, hello!”  I’m here with fresh healing ointment and new bandages.  Leonardo’s orders, though I was planning to stop by anyway.  He seems even bossier with your new arrival.  I’m sure that will go over well with Raphael.”

            Crossing the room, he knelt down before her on the bed, held out a hand, and waited for her to place her bandaged wrists in his care.  Quickly and efficiently, he began unwrapping the gauze and inspecting the deep cuts into her flesh caused by the electric cuffs that had held her hands immobile.  Donatello worked in silence, occasionally pushing the thick glasses on his face further onto his nose.

            “You all have a lovely home,” Feronia began, not sure where to begin to break the silence.

            The purple-masked turtle flicked his eyes up to her for a millisecond before returning to focus on his task.  “We have to live in secret, which is harder for some of my other brothers to deal with at times, but we have made this space ours.”

            “How old are you and your brothers anyway?”

            “Mmm… we are still teenagers, technically, but in a few months we will be turning twenty.  How old are you?”

            “Eighteen, I think.  I only had birthdays when father – sorry, when Nathan Stone told me I had a birthday.  Though he did teach me to keep track of days and time, so I know it has been two years since Dr. Grayston killed him, and I was sixteen then.”

            The much less bulky turtle seemed to freeze for a moment before resuming his task, spreading on new healing ointment and beginning to wrap her wrists with fresh bandages.  Shortly after, her wings had freshly wrapped gauze, and as Donatello began packing up his supplies, a huge yawn overcame her as the crazy events of the past few days finally began to catch up with her.

            Rising to his feet with his supplies cluttered in his arms, he gave her a small smile.  “Try to sleep, you should feel much better by tomorrow.  I’m sure we can talk then.”

             As exhaustion began to overcome her, Feronia tilted her head to the side, studying the towering green-skinned man.  “Huh, you look so different without all that equipment strapped to your head and back.”

            Donatello chuckled in return.  “I don’t often take it off, actually.  Sleep well, Feronia.”

            And with that, he slipped from the bedroom, closing the heavy metal door behind him.

             Though, as the metal swung shut, unease snaked through her.  She had been enclosed behind a locked metal door all her life, and the feeling that it could so easily happen again worried her.  Hopping down from the bed, she crossed the room and pulled the door open, heaving a breath of relief as the door easily opened.  Peering out into the lair, she saw Leonardo and Donatello near the far wall, talking intently.  No one was guarding her door, she could leave this room anytime she wanted…it was almost more than she ever hoped for!

Leaving the door slightly ajar about a foot so that it wasn’t fully closed, Feronia turned back to her room and pulled back the covers, tucking her wings tight to her back as she crawled under the bedding and settled down into the soft comfort of the mattress.  As excited as she was to explore this new place, sleep claimed her so swiftly she wasn’t even aware of her cheek meeting the pillow.

***

            “How are her injuries, Don?”

            “The injuries are fine, they should heal with minimal scarring, and any missing feathers on her wings should regrow if they are anything like true aviary wings.  I did find out something interesting, Leo.  We need to look into a name.  Nathan Stone.  Feronia called him her father, and mentioned that Dr. Grayston killed him two years ago when she was sixteen.  Maybe tomorrow we can try to get more information from her?   She seemed rather exhausted and I didn’t want to push for information tonight.  Events like what she has been through can tend to manifest during dreams.”

            Leonardo nodded as he listened to his brainiac brother.  “Good call.  Get some sleep yourself, man.  I’m going to clean up the lair a bit so I can hang out here for a while, just in case there are complications.  The last time she woke up was rather…”

            “Volatile?”

            “Yes, that is a good word for it.  Night, Don.”

            As Donatello disappeared back into his lab, which also served as his private bedroom since his brother couldn’t seem to live very far from his current projects or his computers, Leonardo turned his attention to the main lair, moving about as he tidied up, sweeping floors and tossing out empty pizza boxes from Mikey’s latest dinner.  Both Mikey and Raph had retreated to their own private spaces, and he could hear the clink of weights as Raph worked through his just-before-bed ritual of pumping iron.  But as the rest of the hours of the night passed on with no sound coming from the spare bedroom, he decided to make himself as comfortable as he could on one of the couches near the television, and soon felt himself drifting off to sleep.

***

            At first, Feronia didn’t recognize her surroundings.  Gaze flying about the room, she felt panic rising until her eyes alit on the partially open doorway.   Just like that, her racing heartbeat slowed as she remembered where she was.   Far, far, far from NexGen. 

            Pushing a tangle of black curls out of her vision, she fought to extricate herself from the tangle of sheets and blankets.  Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she made her way over to the small pile of clothes the woman called April had left for her yesterday.  At least she thought it was yesterday…time was sort of all blurring together yet. 

            The murmur of voices speaking out in the lair reached her, and excitement shot through her.  She never had real clothing before, so it took a bit to figure out how to put everything on.  Pants were easy.  The modified shirts she was given were a bit tricky…each one had been slit up the back twice, a slit on the back left and one slit on the back right, each one running about up to the shoulder.  As she slipped a sleeveless shirt on over her head, the top half of the shirt fit around her arms and shoulders like normal, and the swatch of fabric created by the two slits ran down between her wings.  Buttons had been sewn into the edges, and she could draw the edges around under her wings and fasten them to the rest of the shirt along her side, neatly creating a shirt that allowed her wings unhindered movement but kept her nicely covered.  It was a bit baggy, but then again April did say she was going to try and get Feronia more fitting clothing.

            Rooting through the side table drawers produced a small folding brush, and Feronia untangled the mass of curls on her head until the brush ran through the black tresses easily.  With the urge to visit a bathroom becoming the greater necessity, she moved to the door and pushed it open, stepping out into the lair.

            Instantly she caught sight of all four turtles standing in a group at the far side of the lair, speaking with a man the same height as Mikey.  Feronia hesitated.  The only experience she ever had with regular, human men were not pleasant ones, save for the memories she had of the times her father took to give her an education while she grew up in the lab.  Twisting her hands together in uncertainty, she decided to hurry onward to the bathroom.  Maybe once those biological needs had been eased and she could freshen herself up a bit, she would feel more confident.  She doubted the four muscled men that helped her escape NexGen would just turn around and hand her over to some total stranger.  But then again, she barely knew said muscled men.

            Quickly brushing her teeth, she left the bathroom and made her way down the tunnel to the lair.  As soon as she stepped out, Leonardo waved to her, beckoning her to join their small congregation.  Yet her feet didn’t seem to want to move…she was too uncertain of the new man they were talking to.  Who was he?  Perhaps he was someone from NexGen after all?  Or worse, what if he knew someone from NexGen and would pass on the information of where she could be found?  Then it wouldn’t just be her in danger, but her newfound allies as well.  Feronia refused to go back to that life.

            He must have seen the uncertainty radiating from her posture, because the next thing she knew, the blue-clad leader was crossing the lab, skirting around the dais, and crossing the bridge over the rushing stream of clear water until he towered before her.  But instinct refused to let the strange man out of her sights, and she leaned over to peer around Leonardo’s blocking form.

            “Who is that?  What does he want?”  Feronia asked, words barely a whisper.

            “Hey, look at me.”

            When she remained focused on the man across the lair, a large hand gripped her chin and lifted her gaze to his.  “When I give an order, I expect it to be followed _._ ”

            And just like that, she could look nowhere else but those incredibly intense blue eyes.   

            “That man talking with my brothers is another close and trusted friend of ours.  He works for the New York Police Department, and has information on the arrests they made at NexGen labs after we all escaped the building.  Come on.  Let me introduce you to him.”

            The warmth of his hand dropped away from her chin, and Leonardo wrapped his hand around her upper arm instead.  It felt oddly comforting and safe as he led her back across the lair until she was standing with everyone else, including Splinter who turned warm black eyes toward her.  She could have sworn she saw his large-eyed gaze flick for the briefest second down to where Leonardo’s hand still remained wrapped around her upper arm.  But it happened so fast, Feronia was certain she imagined it.

            “Holy shit, she really does have wings.”

            Raphael landed a solid fist into the man’s upper arm.  “Real subtle, Jones.”

            Where Donatello was all tall, lean muscle, Raphael was power incarnate with muscle packed on top of muscle.  Yet as big and intimidating as he looked, the eyes he turned her way were always kind.  Always open and inviting.  Michelangelo seemed to be the shortest of them all, and though far less bulky than Raph, strength emanated from even his most subtle movements.

            “Shit!  Ow, man!  Can you blame me?  She only looks the very image of every artist’s rendition of an actual angel.”  Turning, the dark-haired stranger finally addressed her directly.  “I apologize.  The name is Casey Jones.”

            Shrugging one shoulder, acutely aware of the warm, three fingered hand still wrapped around her upper arm, Feronia offered a tentative smile. 

            “So,” Casey continued, “I stopped in to inform Leonardo and the rest on the arrest report the NYPD made at NexGen.  We arrested fifteen Foot Clan soldiers and four mercenaries known as the Red Tide.”

            “I saw far more than four mercenaries while I was kept there.” Feronia blurted out.

            Hesitantly, he rubbed his hands together as if unsure how to proceed.  “…Yes, we even saw more than that in the surveillance video Donnie found.  And…”

            Casey’s eyes darted between all of them.

            Feronia felt dread begin to coil deep in her gut. 

            With a sigh, the tall turtle next to her turned her to him.  “The police never found the man called the General, nor Dr. Grayston.”

            She was floored and confused all at the same time as she shook her head up at him.  “What does that even mean?”

            “It means that they both escaped somehow before police arrived on the scene.  Donnie has been trying to track them, but it seems as if they have gone off the grid.”

            At her puzzled look, Leonardo quickly clarified.  “Off the grid, meaning they have disappeared for a while.”

            “Most likely lying low to keep their known presence hidden.”  Donatello finished for his older brother.

            “Feronia, do you have any other knowledge of a second facility that may be in use?”   Casey asked.

            Mind awhirl with this sudden new information and the implications of what it could all mean, Feronia simply shook her head numbly. 

            “Well, we should have you give a statement and testify to the work and the treatment you were given there –”

            “Absolutely not.”  Leonardo’s bit off.  “That would only put her in the direct path of the public eye, and make it even easier for Dr. Grayston and this General to find her again.”

            “Well, Big Blue, she needs protection.”

            “Exactly, Casey Jones,” Splinter’s voice finally rose above the argument.  “And who better to keep young Feronia safe than my sons and I?  Very few people know the location of our lair.  Feronia,” Splinter began, addressing her directly, “you are more than welcome to remain here while the police search for these two people and bring them to justice.  I feel until then, you are safest with us.”

            Well, she wasn’t an idiot.  She had seen these four turtle-men in action first hand.  The General and Dr. Grayston were still out there somewhere.  It was obvious that the safest place to be right now was with these four men and their father.  She could be patient for that open sky out there a little while longer.  “If it isn’t too much trouble,” she agreed.

            Leonardo dropped his hold on her arm to face her fully, once again bringing his arm up across his chest and fisting his hand against his heart.  “We are honored to have you here, and will protect you with our lives.”

            Her breath caught as Michelangelo followed suit with his older brother, and one by one, she soon was encircled by four bowing ninja’s and a five foot rat, all with a hand fisted over their heart.  A warrior’s promise.

            A cheery hello from one of the entering tunnels broke into the ominous cloud that had settled around them all, and seven pairs of eyes turned to see April making her way into the lair, arms laden with bags and boxes.  She paused in midstride when she took in the their group.  “Wow, talk about serious faces.  What did I miss?”

            For the first time since that chaotic night in NexGen Labs, Feronia felt her eyes blur with tears she desperately tried blinking back as everything began sinking in.  Just how long would she have to live with these new allies in their home?  Where was Dr. Grayston?  And if he and the General weren’t actively trying to find her…what if they simply started their scientific work elsewhere, and some other soul would be created in their midst?

            The other woman took one look at her and flew into action, bursting into their congregation.  “Why don’t we try letting her settle in first before you all start bombarding her with such serious shit, huh?”  And with those scolding words, she turned to Mikey, she practically dumped the various bags and boxes into the man’s arms before looping her now free arm with Feronia’s and tugging her with toward the room she had slept in the night before.  “Come on, Mikey.  I spent the last several hours searching for our gorgeous new friend here.  Bring all that to her room.”

            And without a second glance back, April turned on a whirl of long black hair and high healed boots.  As the two women moved back across the lair, April leaned in.  “Men sometimes don’t know the meaning of subtle.  Come, let me show you what I bought for you.  They should fit much better than the few sets of clothes I scavenged from my place for you.”

            Numbly, Feronia allowed the other woman to pull her along until they were once again in the bedroom she had slept in.  Mikey followed a second later, dumping the various items on the bed.  As he opened his mouth to say something, April shooed him out the door before he could utter a peep.  Once the door was closed, April urged her to dig into the shopping bags and boxes with her.  It took a few minutes, but soon the excitement of new belongings began to eclipse the sense of dread that had been dragging her down.

            “These guys will treat you like gold, hun.  Don’t you worry.  And they won’t stop working until you are completely safe.”

            Swallowing thickly, Feronia paused, a pretty grey t-shirt with a smattering of  sparkly gems across the front bunched between her hands.  “Thank you.”

            April waved away her gratitude.  “No need to thank me, sometimes I think those guys don’t know any other mode than serious.  Thank god for Mikey, he always seems to find something to smirk and grin about in any situation.  Now, let’s see how these pants fit, and then Donnie and I can show you how we altered the shirts to fit those wings of yours.  That way you can alter your own clothing.”

            Nodding with new eagerness, Feronia dove into her first real _girl moment_ without ever realizing what it was.

            Out in the lair, a set of piercing blue eyes stared fixedly at the door one such winged human disappeared behind with April.

***

            Over the next several weeks, Leonardo watched as the winged human not only gained her strength and health back, but the transformation of her personality was like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon.  Like rays of sun dawning over a bleak terrain.  The young woman went from timid and shy to excited happiness over every little new experience she could find.  She loved to learn, and as her health and strength returned, Splinter began to work with her in the training room, the space big enough for her to stretch her wings completely, working on stretches and forms designed specifically for her to build core strength and much needed muscle.  And was that a vision to behold.  The first time Leo turned the corner into the training room to catch sight of Feronia in a tai chi pose, black-indigo wings snapping outward and holding into a wide stretching wing-span, it nearly drove him to his knees.  He had to beat a hasty retreat before he telegraphed to his father his sudden weak-kneed state.

            With her returning health came a lustrous beauty none of them anticipated.  Her black hair was really more of a midnight blue, cascading down her back in long ringlets when she didn’t have it tied back into a high ponytail.  Fair, porcelain skin shone with a healthy pink hue.  But it was her wings that really transformed.  The feathers, at first dull and lackluster in their color, now practically shown with a bright black.  And in the right light, indigo flashed across the filaments of each feather like a brief flare of deep blue wildfire.

            Those wings also portrayed her emotions and feelings.  When she was excited, she seemed to unconsciously hold the aviary limbs in an at-the-ready state, feathers rustling in her eagerness.  If something suddenly made her sad, he noticed her wings drooped, the wing-tips dragging along the ground.  And when she wrapped them forward around her, he knew she was feeling insecure or uncertain, as if that shroud of wings could protect her.  But when she was comfortable and content, she tended to wrap herself in feathered warmness as well.

            And she loved to read.  For hours.  He lost track of the number of times he strolled through the lair to catch sight of Feronia curled up on a huge lazyboy reclining chair Raph found for her, a set of lights Donnie built that cast light over her shoulder to illuminate the pages, wings wrapped around herself like a cloak, a tiny smile lifting her lush lips and eyes flitting over one page after another as she lost herself within the fantastical worlds only imaginations brush could paint.  Feronia loved fiction.  He had seen her plow through the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy in a matter of days.  But she also read textbooks, often times unfolding herself from her little reading nest to pad over to Donnie’s lab to knock on his door, book in tow and inquiring questions ready to tumble from her mind. 

            Loving to learn was an understatement, and Leo often found Donatello and the winged human puttering about his lab, chattering away over one scientific topic or another.  The first time he came back from patrol with Mikey and Raph in tow to find two sets of legs poking out from under the garbage truck Donnie was constantly working on, he wondered how the heck she managed to get her wings under the vehicle.

            “You two alive under there?”

            “Leo!”  Came a muffled, excited shout.

            God, he loved hearing her say his name like that.

            And when she wheeled herself out from under the monstrous vehicle on a creeper, wings wrapped tight around herself, face smudged with grease and oil and silver eyes sparkling with excitement at _his_ return, Leonardo knew he was screwed.

            Feronia was joy personified.  She was lively and vivacious, and had such an open excitement to her she even made Raph’s grumpy ass burst out laughing on a regular basis.

            But that wasn’t even the greatest thing about her.  It was that smile; a beaming, true smile that lit her features the moment he entered the lair.  To him, that kind of smile was sexy as hell.  Leo could stride in from the entering tunnel and Feronia would catch sight of him, and that welcoming smile would lift the corners of her full lips, those indigo brushed black feathered wings would perk up into a half-hold of alertness, and it would feel as if someone punched him in the gut.  Swift and hard.

            Deciding that the best way to keep an eye on the city and any new potential movement from Dr. Grayston or the General, he and his brothers took shifts to patrolling the city with one of them remaining behind in the lair in case trouble found them at their home.  It happened once before, and although they were all extra careful about the steps they took in returning to their lair, and even Donnie doubled his surveillance technology –  they wouldn’t take any chances.  Not with such a precious charge in their care.

            So the best way to deal with his newfound attraction to their new houseguest?  Leonardo personally took more of the patrols than necessary.  Anything to get him out of the lair and away from stunning silver eyes and the sweep of indigo hinted midnight wings so he could clear his head.  What was he thinking?  Up until a couple months ago, the most she had known was the walls of NexGen Labs.  She didn’t need a mutated turtle freak lusting after her. 

            No, the best thing he could do was keep searching for those that meant her harm.  And bring them swift retribution.  He could make himself scarce at the lair. 

            It was the honorable way.  Wasn’t it?


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! And it's 4am... I'll fix the paragraph indentation tomorrow.

**Chapter Seven**

            “It looks like melted goo.”

            “Melted goo!  My Fer Bear, this isn’t melted goo!  It’s five different cheeses all melted together in the finest, most delectable cuisine on our planet.”

            Silver eyes turned dubiously towards orbs of baby blue rimmed by cloth of orange.  “And grease.  Melted goo and grease.”

            “Come on, just try it.  Just pick up a slice with your hand, and take a bite.”

            “Alright.  You swear it is good?”

            “No, no, no, not good.  Delicious.  Divine.  Delectable.”

            Scooping up a triangle piece of melted cheese slathered over what looked like bread, she bit off the end of the pointiest part.  As flavor burst over her tongue, her face lit up as she quickly glanced back at an eagerly awaiting Mikey.  “Oh…my...god.  This _is_ delicious!” she declared, quickly swallowing and diving in for more cheesy goodness.

            Folding muscled, green arms over a brown chest, Mikey, leaned one hip up against the kitchen counter.  “I can’t believe all the stuff you have never tried.  What did they feed you anyway?”

            Cheeks now stuffed full of this food of the gods called pizza, Feronia had to take a few minutes to swallow enough in order to answer.  “In the last two years? Mostly this sloppy goop.  Didn’t taste like much.  It looked like that stuff you made for breakfast the other morning called oatmeal and grits, though yours tasted so much better.”

            A hardened mask slipped over Mikey’s features as the youngest mutated turtle went from jovial to pissed-off in a heartbeat.  Whew…that was one man whose bad side she didn’t want to be on.  In fact, she would have never guessed that he _had_ a bad side.  But that intense, pissed-off anger in its rarity only spoke of the power Michelangelo kept reined in; like a storm brewing at bay unknowingly, and when it came thundering up with roaring intensity, it could lay destruction in its wake.  It was such a contradiction to Raphael, the brother he seemed closest with.  Raph was like a walking talking thunderstorm in comparison; always brewing and boiling just below the surface, rumbling even on his best days and clashing and booming on the bad ones.  At least with Raph, his intensity was all on the surface, though when Mikey had leaned over and whispered that he was really just a big cuddly teddy bear, he wasn’t wrong.  Most of her new belongings were gifted to her by a very carrying Raphael.

            But right now, the look on Mikey’s face was making her a wee bit nervous.  Swallowing hard, she placed the half finished piece of her second slice of pizza down and reached out, setting her hand on the tense muscles of his crossed forearms.  “Hey, bubba.  Don’t you worry about what it was like at NexGen.  You are single handedly giving me some great first experiences.”

            And just like that, the look of anger was replaces with the infectious, bubbly nature that was Mikey.  “Awww…girl, you’re gonna make me blush.”

            “Why?”  Feronia asked, cocking her head to one side.

            “Calling me your first.”

            She blinked.

            When several seconds passed in silence, she finally shook her head.  “I don’t get why that would make you blush.”

            “What would make who blush?”

            Raph’s voice behind her startled her so bad she practically jumped out of her skin, wings snapping out as she spun around.  Mikey ducked neatly under the sweep of indigo laced feathers.  One edge of a dark feathered wing connected squarely with a certain sai loving ninja’s nose, however.

            With a growling shout, Raph jumped back a few paces, one hand covering his face as he glared at her.  “What the hell, Fer?”

            “Well you startled me!  Besides, aren’t you supposed to have all these super quick skills?”

            “Not in my own kitchen!  I think my nose’s bleedin’”

            Gasping, Feronia caught sight of a crumpled towel tossed haphazardly near the kitchen sink, and snatched it up, rushing over to the red-bandana masked ninja, holding the cloth out like a peace offering.  “I’m really sorry, Raph.  I sometimes forget how much room my wings take up.”

            “Raph!”  Leonardo’s voice preceded his arrival into the kitchen, which really was only a small section of one of the large connecting tunnels. 

And with three of the four six feet tall muscled brothers now filling in the limited space, Feronia was feeling rather small.

As the blue-masked leader stepped into the rest of the space, her pulse kicked up a notch.  Well, that was maddening.  Why did her heart have to start hammering against her ribs whenever Leo came striding on up?  It never ratcheted up when any of the other brothers came near…

“Raph, there you are.  We need to head out on patrol…why are you holding a towel to your face?”

Amber eyes glared down at her, and if a look could growl, Raph would have succeeded.  “Fer smacked me in the face with a wing.  But to be fair, I probably startled her when I asked why someone was blushing.”

A green brow dove in confusion over cobalt eyes.  “Wait, I am really confused here.  Who’s blushing?”

“Mikey was,” Feronia proclaimed as she turned and moved beside the youngest turtle, slinging an arm and a wing around the back of his shell in a half hug.  “He’s my first.”

“ _What?”_ Leo and Raph barked in unison.

With a nervous laugh as two death glares were drilled his way by his two older brothers, Mikey’s hands shot up in surrender.  “Whoa, brah’s!  Whoa! Cool the jets.  I was totally joking around!  You know, I gave Fer Bear her first pancakes, her first movie, her first pizza…”

“My first CD of music,” she helpfully supplied.

Both older brothers sagging in relief, they slid each other a look a second before laughter erupted in the small kitchen.  Sighing in relief that his brothers were not going to suddenly murder him, Mikey slung an arm over her shoulders.  “See, I’m her first!”

Not quite understanding what was so funny yet having a sneaking suspicion she was at the center of it, Feronia tucked her wings tight to her back and shouldered through the triage of brothers, swiping a book off of the counter on her way.  “Since you are all determined to laugh at me, I’m going to go get some reading in before I have to train with Master Splinter.”

She didn’t get more than a few paces before a large hand settled around her upper arm, halting her path and turning her back around.  Blue eyes speared her in place.  “We’re not laughing at you, Feronia,” Leonardo began.  “It’s just apparent that you are unaware of most common euphemisms, and it is more adorable and charming than funny.”

Her heart began to hammer against her ribs at the sudden compliment from the usually taciturn, green-skinned man.  And for a moment, the surroundings of brick and metal walls around her began to blur away as she found herself completely captured by the unwavering look in those intense cobalt eyes –

“ _Awwwww!_ ”  Two voices rose in unison from the kitchen behind the expanse of Leonardo’s shell. 

“I _told_ you.”

“Shut up, Mikey.”

With a muscle leaping in his jaw, the blue-masked leader whipped his head around.  “Why don’t you both shut up?”

Although Feronia abruptly came back to the present, the warmth of Leonardo’s hand on her upper arm had yet to disappear.  And because she was wearing one of her modified sleeveless shirts… what did April call them?  Oh, right, a tank-top.  Because of the sleeveless design of the shirt, Feronia was blatantly aware of the texture of Leo’s skin against her own.  Although he normally wore wrappings around both his upper arms and across his palms to help grip the swords he preferred to wield, the rest of his hands were bare and she could feel his skin, roughened from over a decade of training with Master Splinter.

And then his thumb began to trace small, feather-light circles.  Awareness shot through her like she was just zapped by electricity.  Since Leo was still glaring at his brothers, Feronia was not even sure he was aware of it.  But she decided then and there that she really liked that bolt of awareness, curiosity beginning to kindle like a tiny flame somewhere deep within her. 

Turning his attention back to her, a smile spread across his face, lifting the corners of his lips.  Another jolt thrummed through her; Leonardo really did have a great smile…

“So what are you reading today?”

Wrenching her thoughts to the book she clutched in one arm, she held it out for him to peruse the cover.

One smooth brow ridge slowly rose as his gaze flicked to the book cover.  “Love’s Savage Secret?  Uh, Fer, where did you even find a book like that?”

“April gave it to me yesterday after I came out of the shower and saw her…ugg, what did she call it…ah!  Kissing!  She and Casey Jones were kissing.  I think –”

“Casey was kissing _my BABYCAKES!”_  Mikey shouted.  “That’s it!  I am so kicking his ass!”

“No, Michelangelo.  Nobody’s ass is getting kicked.”

Feronia was amazed that although an edge of steal entered Leonardo’s clipped words as he shot the order towards his younger brother, the grip on her arm never tightened or relinquished, instead remaining steady and sure.

“But –”

“I said, no.”

With a grumble, Michelangelo tossed his hands up in the air.  “Can’t I just pound on him a little?”

“No.”

“Fiiinnnneee!”  And just like that, Mikey seemed to beam a huge smile.  “I’ll find myself another hot chick.  I mean, who can deny themselves all of _this?”_ he finished with a sweeping gesture toward himself.

Shaking his head, Leo once again turned back to her.  “Feronia, ignore Mikey.  What were you saying before you were interrupted?” 

“Well, I think I was asking too many questions for April to answer, so she told me she would get me some books that would answer all my questions about it.  She dropped off a whole box of books after she was done with work.”

“So she brought you romance novels?”

“If that is what these are called, then yes.  And I love them!”  Feronia gushed. 

All three brothers groaned in unison.

She couldn’t deny it, each story seemed to be addicting.  They were stories of two people meeting and coming together.  They were titillating and exhilarating, and got her all worked up and excited about the prospect of finding her own romance, of finding someone to do all those decadent things with her…

Leonardo finally dropped his hand, the warmth of his grip falling away, and she was acutely aware of its absence. 

Running a wrapped hand over the smooth dome of his head, Leonardo shifted from one foot to the other.  “Uh, Feronia, I don’t think those give an accurate repre –”

“Leonardo!” 

Donatello’s shout rang from his lab across the lair a second before the tall, lean, techno-loving turtle came sprinting out of the doorway to his lab.  He spotted them all near the kitchen just as he was snatching up his bo staff.  “My scanners just picked up Foot Clan activity.  Apparently they are raiding the Howard Hughes Medical Institute.  I have an idea as to why –”

In a flash, the rest of the brothers were in motion.  “Tell me on the way, Donnie.”  Leonardo commanded.

For a moment, the lair was a flurry of towering hulks of green muscle darting to their gear, and then almost as quickly, the lair was empty as all four men disappeared down one of the access pipes.

Longing shot through her as she watched the last textured shell disappear.  It was a longing to go with them, to be able be able to go above the surface…

“My child, shall we begin today’s training?”

Master Splinter’s kind voice broke through her train of thought, and she turned with a smile toward the rat that stood as tall as herself.  “Of course.”

Setting her newest romance novel aside, Feronia followed Master Splinter to the training room.

***

            On top of the roof of the Howard Hughes Medical Institute, agitation coursed through Leonardo as he glanced over a printed sheet the Chief of the NYPD, Chief Vincent handed to him.  About at dozen Foot Clan soldiers did indeed raid the building, making off with several pieces of equipment even before he and his brothers arrived.  He could sense frustration rolling off of Raph in waves as his brother prowled back and forth several feet from where Leo was convening with the Chief and Casey Jones.  Mikey stood beside him, for once silent as he listened and took in the details buzzing around.  Donnie was chattering away as his brilliant mind began trying to put together a puzzle with pieces they just started gathering.

            “ PCR thermal cyclers, reaction components like purified nucleic acid template, deoxyribonucleotides, oligonucleotide primers, DNA polymerase…do you know what this could mean?”

            “No, Don, I don’t.  Repeat that in English. And elaborate.”

            With a quick nod, Donatello’s gaze flitted between Chief Vincent and Leo as he pushed his glasses into a more solid position on his nose bride, his amber eyes glittering with excitement.  “PCR…or polymerase chain reaction, is ubiquitous in laboratories everywhere.   It’s used in applications such as DNA sequencing, cloning, mutagenesis, expression profiling –”

            “Mutagenesis?”  Leonardo and Chief Vincent voiced together.

            “Yes, the process by which genetic information of an organism is changed in a stable manner, resulting in a mutation.  It may occur spontaneously in nature, or as a result to exposure of mutagens.”  Lifting his three fingered hand, Donatello spread out his hand in example.  “It can also be achieved experimentally using laboratory procedures.  Though there are much more in-depth procedures and processes that have to be achieved before resulting in something like Fer—”

            “Donnie!”  Leo barked, snagging his brothers attention in mid-thought.  Once he had his brother’s focus, he gave a minute shake of his head.

            Eyes widening, Leo could tell Donatello was realizing just what he almost revealed.  “…In multicellular organism mutation.  Er…”  Donnie glanced at the hard look being drilled his way by Chief Vincent.  “Organisms consisting of multiple cells.  Like you or I.”

            “Why would Foot Clan soldiers be interested in science equipment?”

            “Chief Vincent, have you found any information on the Dr. Grayston that ran NexGen labs?  Has information on his location been established since the raid we made at the NexGen building?”

            The blond woman shook her head.  “No confirmed report has been able to be made on whether he is dead or alive.  A warrant is still out for his arrest for illegal genetic research.”

            “I’m thinkin’ alive.”  Raphael growled from the path he was attempting to wear into the cement of the building rooftop. 

            Chief Vincent’s brow shot skyward.  “You think this Foot Clan raid has been orchestrated for Dr. Grayston?”

            Leonardo lifted one shoulder.  “I can’t imagine why ninja’s would need this PCR equipment.  I will have my brothers and I begin regular patrols of the city during the night hours.  Your police can handle things during the day, though I doubt the Foot will conduct raids during daylight hours.”

             Nodding, the blonde police chief began walking to the roof access door, waving Donatello over.  “Come with me, I will have Officer Gould set up secure access for you all to contact me directly, or I you, as we try to get a handle on this.  I want to try to get to these raids before these Foot Clan make off with any more equipment.”

            “Uh, I already hacked your phone and police radio.”

            Chief Vincent stopped dead in her tracks.  “You _what?!?_   You know what, I don’t even want to know.”  Turning, she continued through the roof access door and disappeared into the stairwell.

            “Did you have to tell her we hacked her phone?”

            “It just sort of slipped, Leo.”

          Running a hand over his face, Leonardo waved them all forward, Casey Jones included.  As Mikey drew near, he rammed an elbow into the human man’s side.

            “Ouch!  What was that for!”

            “I tripped, brah.”

            “Mikey…” Leonardo bit off, his tone rife with warning. 

            Raising his hands in mock surrender, the usually jovial Mikey crossed his arms over his chest and joined their impromptu circle.

            “You know this has to do with that bastard Dr. Grayston.”  Raph growled.

              “Technically we don’t have proof yet, although it appears that way.”

             “I don’t give a shit, Donnie!  We all know—”

               “Settle down, guys.”  Leonardo cut into the tension.  “Raph, calm down.  Save that anger for when we _do_ find Dr. Grayston.  Casey, keep sending Donnie those updates.  And no one breathes a word of this to Feronia when we get back to the lab.”

            Four voices rose in objection.  Raising a hand, he waited until he once again had every man’s attention.  “She doesn’t need to be worrying herself over this.  Not until we know more concrete information.  Let’s get back to the lair and lay out a solid plan for patrolling our city so we don’t have to only rely on the police broadcasts Donnie has been following.  Casey, are you coming back to the lair too?”

            The man was giving Mikey, a very heated and stewing Mikey, a nervous, sidelong look as he rubbed his side where a firm elbow slammed in only moments ago.  “I was going to stop over in a few hours along with April.  Apparently we are watching a movie?”

            "Ooh!”  Donatello perked up.  “Which one this time?”

            “I think April mentioned Superman?”

             All four brothers groaned.

            “Again?”  Raph barked.  “We just watched that one.  For the fourth time!”

            Casey shrugged.  “Feronia picked it.”

            “Well it makes sense, guys.  Feronia was built to fly, so she probably enjoys Superman’s aerial pursuits,” Donatello offered.

            “I’ll watch it with my Fer Bear a million times if she wishes it.”

            Leonardo rolled his eyes at his overly dramatic youngest brother.  The nunchuck wielding ninja was all heart, and adored Feronia completely.  Although he was certain it was a completely platonic adoration.  It had better be.

            “Damn-it,” he mumbled under his breath, cursing that last thought.  He had to put some space in his head where Feronia was concerned.  He shouldn’t let himself get so tied up in knots over the young, winged woman.  He was a leader.  And a leader did not get distracted by stunning silver eyes and skin as soft as silk…His mind flicked to his actions mere hours ago in the lair’s kitchen.  Leo didn’t know what made him act so possessive around her, needing to touch her or hold her in the way he did.  Yet he couldn’t stop himself.

            “Mikey, Raph, you two head back.”  Leonardo cursed at how gruff his voice sounded.  “Donnie and I will make a few sweeps of the city before we head back.  And keep in radio contact.”

            Nodding, his two brothers took off for the building’s edge at a dead run, leaping to the next building with a woop.  The last he saw of his  brothers was the orange flare of Mikey’s motorized skateboard firing.

            With a jerk of his head, he and Donatello sprinted off in the opposite direction.

***

            Feronia truly loved training with Splinter.  At first, it had been a lot of forms and smooth motions, gliding her body from one form to the next and holding it until Master Splinter signaled her to shift into the next form.  Each one seemed to strengthen, stretch, and tone muscles.  Made her aware of the weight of her wings. 

            But recently, Splinter had added a new element to her training, and she now stared at the maze constructed of cardboard boxes stacked into towers.  Each cardboard tower had a small bell attached to it somewhere.  The task…to move, sprint, or run through the maze without knocking or bump a wing or any other body part into a cardboard tower.  Doing so caused the bell, attached somewhere to the cardboard by a thin string, to chime, the sound ringing about the training room. And if a bell chimed, she had to drop and rap out thirty pushups before starting over at the beginning of the course.  Plus Master Splinter was tricky…each time they trained, the course changed, never the same layout so she couldn’t anticipate ahead of time where to twist this way, or duck that way, or snap one wing tight to her back.  At first, the isles between the towers were wide.  Yet as time progressed, the maze became more and more narrow.

            It was to teach her how to move with her wings, to become aware of how her body could move.  What she could and could not do yet and what her body was capable of. 

            It was also the most maddening exercise she had ever been subjected to.  Taking a bracing breath of air, Feronia darted forward.  Ducked.  Twisted.  Snapped her wings out yet kept them flat to her back so she could twist sideways through a narrow space between two cardboard towers, but then wrenched her wings back in, tucking them close to her back as she ducked under a cardboard bridge…

            The dull _thunk_ of the edge near her right wingtip slamming into a box preceded the musical tinkle of a bell sounding about the training room.

            “Thirty pushups, Feronia!”  Splinters voice resounded from where he sat cross legged in the center of the training room.

            With a groan, Feronia dropped into the form.  That rat was relentless.  And she adored him.

            Several hours later, wings feeling like lead weights hanging from the back of her shoulders and arms and legs feeling like noodles, Feronia was emerging from the training room just as Michelangelo and Raphael came strolling into the lair.  Well, the former strolled, the latter stalked.  She wasn’t even sure Raph had any other gait but stalking about.  As the red-masked ninja made his way broodily to the tunnel he set up as a weight room, April and Casey strolled into the lab.

            The woman lifted a dvd case in the air, giving it a wiggle.  “I got you your own copy of Superman, Feronia!”

            Suddenly all body fatigue forgotten, she bounded forward toward the fellow woman, eagerly accepting the gift.

            “I take it this is the movie we are going to watch tonight?”

            “I sure hope so,” Feronia replied.  “Though I don’t know where Leonardo and Donatello are yet.”

            A green, muscled arm draped over her shoulders.  “I think they will be a bit yet.  Which is totally cool because then I get my Fer Bear all to myself tonight!”

            With a laugh, Feronia shrugged off Mikey’s solid arm.  “In a bit.  Raph said he was going to knock me up when he got back, and I think I am just going to get even more sweaty.  Give me say…an hour?”

            “ _Hit you up_ , Fer!  I said I would _hit you up_ when I got back!”  Raph bellowed from his upper tunnel.

            Two humans and a mutated turtle burst into laughter. 

            “Okay, _now_ what did I mess up?”

            “O.M.G!  That was fantastic!  I gotta tell Leo when he gets back,” Mikey got out between bellows of laughter. 

            With a disgruntled little glare drilled at each one of them as Mikey fell into the nearby couch and April and Casey tried to help keep each other up as they laughed so hard they could barely breath, Feronia turned and stalked off to the ladder that led to Raph’s weight room.  “You know what?  Never mind.  That’s another one I will jot down to research later.”

***

_Four months later._

            She didn’t know what caused it, but she knew it all started that night.  The four brothers were constantly coming in and out of the lair as they rotated nightly shifts of what they called _patrols_ of the city.  But none of them would tell her what they were patrolling for.  It also marked Leonardo’s absence.  He was barely in the lair at all, and when he did come back, he stalked through the lair with barely a glance her way as he made a beeline for his private room. 

            Feronia had long decided she needed to talk to Leonardo about letting her explore outside.  Maybe she could go with one of them on their patrols?  Her body was stronger as strength and stamina now infused her inch of her.  She barely caused a bell to ring in the ever increasingly complicated mazes Splinter devised.  She routinely lifted weights with Raph, though hers were never as massive and heavy as those that he could heft.  He had explained to her the weight lifting program he worked her through was to tone muscles, keep them strong, not pack muscle on top of muscle.  Hours were spent in Donnie’s lab as she tinkered away with him on his newest project or asked him a dozen questions over something she was trying to research.  The dear, bo staff wielding ninja also set her up with her own laptop in which she could safely access something called the internet…so if she accidentally said something wrong or mistook a meaning for something else, she could quickly look it up rather than wait until he was back in the lair to ask him to clarify her confusion.

            And it wasn’t until she was lounging in her room one night, working through a new romance novel by Dara Joy called Mine to Take when a realization struck her, and not in a good way. 

            Feeling her eyes growing tired, Feronia placed a bookmark in the pages to mark her spot and set the book aside, rising from the comforts of the mattress to stretch out her back.  It wasn’t easy to lie on her back with two six feet masses of feathers and muscle attached to a wing base at the back of her shoulders.  But she managed.  Rising, she paced over to the far wall, a wall of metal instead of brick, as her mind raced with thoughts.  Perhaps _today_ she would be able to snag a moment where Leonardo would talk to her.  The memory of his warm, large hand gripping her arm seemed like it was ages ago.

            Swiping a stick of chalk from the bedside table, she wasn’t even aware of what she was doing until she froze, chalk against the wall right at the bottom of a small white line she just drew without thinking.  Blinking, she took a step back.  And then another.  And another.

            Unease slowly wormed though her, winding and writhing and wrapping around her chest and squeezing as she looked at the wall.  And then she began to count the dozens, no _hundreds_ of small white chalk marks that were filling up her metal wall.  Two hundred and twelve little white lines marked the wall.  Numbly, Feronia stared at the chalk gripped in her hand.  Habits ingrained from early in one’s live were hard to ignore, and she had instinctively been marking the passing of days since she had been brought to the lair.

_Two hundred and twelve days._

            Those seven months since her escape from NexGen had been so rife with new experiences, training, getting to know the four humanoid turtles that rescued her, that she had not realized so much time was passing. 

            Two hundred and twelve days since her escape and not once had she been out of the lair aside from the initial escape from the lab.  

            The chalk slipped from fingers gone numb to hit the floor, breaking into a dozen different pieces.  How was this room, aside from the comforts, different than her holding chamber at NexGen?  Feronia was certain none of the brothers nor Splinter meant her any harm, yet the truth was staring her blatantly in the face.

            On the heels of unease rose a fierce determination mixed with a tinge of panic.  Quickly digging a pair of hiking boots from beneath her bed and stuffing her feet into them, she laced them tight and stormed from her room.  Leonardo _would_ talk to her, even if she had to barge into his room.  If he was back from patrol with Michelangelo and Donatello.

            Stomping across the lair, she reached the door to Leonardo’s private room and banged her fist against the metal.  “Leo!  I need to speak with you.  Now.”

            When no answer greeted her, she continued banging, that tinge of panic rising until Splinters voice snagged her attention behind her.

            “Feronia, is something amiss, my child?”

            “Yes.  Where is Leonardo?”

            “I believe he is out with his brothers in the city, protecting innocents from the cover of shadow.”

            Dropping her fist from the door, she began to pace before Splinter, trying her best to keep the rising panic down as her mind raced with terrifying thoughts.  As her gaze flitted about the now familiar walls of the lair, she saw them in a completely different light, and they were no longer comforting.  “He is always patrolling.  Fine.  I won’t wait any longer.  I _can’t_ wait any longer.”

            Before Master Splinter could say another word, Feronia ran across the lair, darting down the access tunnel she saw the four turtles often returning from.  Her heart began to hammer against her ribs harder than her sprint should have caused as she glanced behind her, worried that at any moment Splinter would catch up to her, stop her.

            Yet the last sight she saw of the rat as she rounded a corner she could have sworn he was smiling.

            Pushing the image from her mind, she darted along the tunnel, constantly glancing on either side of her as she searched for a door or a…wasn’t she underground?  In sewers?   Mind whirling, she skidded to a halt as she nearly bolted past a ladder.

            Chest huffing, she glanced up the metal rungs.  Was freedom just on the top side of this ladder?  Gripping a rung, she lifted a foot to climb.

            “Fer?”

            And froze. 

            Her breath caught in her lungs as her heart thudded in her chest even harder, the panic that she had thus far managed to keep under control surged.  Swallowing, she slowly turned around.  “Raph.”  His name was a mere rasp of a whisper.  This was it.  Raphael would stop her; drag her back to her room…

            But the hulking bulk of green-skinned muscle simply studied her as he nibbled a toothpick held between his teeth. 

            Feronia braced her shoulders, drawing her chin up defiantly.  “I’m going up.  Outside.”

            For a moment, silence stretched on in the tunnel as those amber eyes studied her. 

            “A’right.  But it ain’t that ladder.” 

            Stooping over, he snagged hold of her hand and tugged her along after him.  In the opposite direction of the lair.

            “Raphael?”

            “You wanna go outside?  Well, I’m commin’ with ya.”

            Elation soared as she trotted along after the tall ninja as he led her through the tunnel.

            Twenty minutes later, Feronia stood on the top of a building near the manhole Raphael brought her to, her long black hair lifting in the breeze that was gusting through the city.  Tossing her arms out, she spun in a circle, face turned up toward the night sky as Raphael leaned up against the glass panes of a rooftop greenhouse, grinning as he watched her.

            As a gust of wind burst along the rooftop even stronger, her feathers ruffling as she lifted her wings, reveling in the feel of the wind like a caress along each feather.  Feronia wasn’t even sure how much time had passed since Raphael brought her to this roof, since she flitted from corner to corner of the building, peering over the edge and exhilarating at the sight of the large drop below, turning her face to the stars above her or gazing out at the twinkle of thousands, no, millions, of city lights.

            “Raph, I think I could do it.”

            “Do what?”

            “Fly.”

            “Wait, what?”

            “I’m certain I could.  Maybe if I ran fast enough and jumped off the—”

            A thud landed alarmingly close to her with enough force the concrete of the roof buckled and cracked.  “No one is jumping off of anything.”

            With a startled gasp, Feronia spun around to a pair of cobalt blue eyes framed by a deep blue sash, the grips of two katana’s strapped to his shell framing his head like wings of his own.

            And was Leonardo ever _pissed._

            “Aw shit, Leo!  Did ya have ta go scarin’ her like that?”  Raph growled as he stalked past her, deliberately putting himself between her and Leonardo’s very apparent wrath. 

            The leader was glaring at them both, shoulders surging as he breathed angrily, hands closing repeatedly into fists as he obviously fought to retain his always present air of controlled calm.

            But her attention was solely for Leonardo.  Feronia had never, _never_ , seen so much raw emotion from him.  He was always so controlled, so level headed.  If Raphael was like a constant, rumbling thunderstorm as he always stalked about the lair, then Leonardo was the kind of storm that crept up on the horizon, building and darkening as it built in intensity with a crackling tension that practically filled the air about the roof top as wind gusted around the three of them.  Feronia was faced with the unavoidable fury of Leonardo’s storm unleashing before her even as he tried to keep it at bay.  The hairs on her arms and neck lifted as her pulse skyrocketed, and it had nothing to do with fear.   Something surged within her, its intensity far more than mere awareness in answer to the raw ferocity rolling from the blue-masked ninja in waves.  She held his burning gaze unrelentingly with her own, and a new light leapt in his eyes, one she could not define.

            “Raphael, return to the lair.  I shall deal with Feronia.”  Leonardo ordered.  Blunt.  Precise.

            Yet Raph didn’t budge, eyeing his brother a moment before he turned to look over his shoulder back at her.  Catching his gaze, she gave Raphael a little nod.

            Raph’s obvious disobedience caused a tick to leap in Leonardo’s jaw.  “Raphael…” the leader bit off, the warning clear in that single name.

            With a nod back to her, Raph turned and strode past before hopping silently over the side of the building, disappearing from sight.

            For a moment, Feronia and Leonardo simply stared at each other, both chests heaving for air.

            Leo was the first to move.  Stalking forward, he reached out as if to grasp her upper arm.  “We are going back to the lair.  Now.”

            Scrambling back, an instinctive beat of her wings created enough drag to turn her scramble into a backward stumbling, lurching slide.  “No.”

            “What do you mean _no_?  Do you have any idea the danger your presence on this roof poses to you?”

            When she didn’t answer, Leonardo stalked toward her, and she hurriedly paced backward. 

            “How could you be so foolish.”

            At that, her own temper flared with all the suddenness of an arc of electricity.  Feronia stopped her backward momentum and instead charged the six feet tall ninja turtle. 

            “Foolish!” she shouted, uncaring of who might be able to hear her as she slammed the flat of her palms against the brown planes of his chest with a smack.  “Foolish!”   She smacked him again.  Over and over she raged and seethed, tears suddenly pouring from her eyes as all the emotions over the last seven months surged to the forefront.  “You bust into NexGen labs and save me!  Only I traded one prison,” _smack!_ “for another!  Do you even realize this is the first” _smack!_ “time I got to see the sky since,” _smack!_ “Mikey carried me down the side of that lab?!” 

            A distant part of her became dimly aware that she was turning into a shrieking, hysterical whirlwind as she growled tearfully up at Leonardo while he silently took her barrage.  She might as well have been beating her hands against a rock wall for all that he reacted.

            In a surge of anger, she put a strong beat of her wings behind her next assault, and it forced him back a step.

            “ _Enough_!” 

            The order rolled out around the rooftop, and for a split second, she froze.  With a jerk, she spun around, stalking away from the infuriating man as tears continued to stream in hot tracks down her cheeks.  “I’m going to see if I can fly, and you can’t stop me.”  Feronia straightened her wings with a snap, stretching the muscles like she so often did in the training room.

            Two iron hard arms snagged around her, one wrapping under her left wing and around her waist, the other over the top of her right wing and across her chest to grip her left shoulder.  With her wings stretched out as they were, she found his warmth pinned against the length of her back between each wing base, stifling the movement of her wings.

            With a roar that almost sounded inhuman even to her own ears, she bucked and surged against his hold, all the frustration from years of living under Dr. Grayston’s thumb surging to the fore, all the frustration of being kept under one roof or another, behind walls that enclosed her in. 

            She could still beat her wings to an extent, and she gave Leonardo everything she had in her.  Black wings surged, winging against the gusting wind and generating enough force that sent them both skidding back along the concrete of the roof as Leonardo braced himself against her struggles. 

            A growl behind her was her only warning.

            Suddenly, the unrelenting bands of muscled arms around her tightened, and she was spun, the city lights whirling in streaks of light until she found herself shoved up against the cool panes of the greenhouse, Leonardo’s solid warmth pressing up against every inch of her like an unbreakable wall.

            “Let me go!”  Feronia shouted, pushing against the glass with her hands.

            In silence, he continued to pin her against the greenhouse, until seconds ticked into minutes and her struggles completely exhausted her strength. 

            Lungs heaving for much needed air, breath shuddering on the tail end of sobs she hadn’t even been aware of, Feronia let her head drop against the cool pane of the greenhouse with a plunk.  Leonardo seemed to be breathing just as heavy as she was, yet his hold remained unyielding. 

            Over six feet of raw power harnessed into one man, one muscled, green-skinned, lethally trained katana-wielding warrior, towered over her, hemming her in so completely she could barely twitch save for the shudder that coursed through each wing as his body forced them open by keeping his mass planted firmly against her back.   His heaving breath puffed against her, stirring the fine hairs at her temple. 

            A shudder coursed through her that had nothing to do with the wind that gusted around them.

            Firm lips seemed to skim the crest of her ear.

            “You’re right.”

            “Wh-what?”  Feronia was sure she hadn’t heard him clearly.

            The arm banded across her upper chest shifted as his warmth behind her shifted, and a rough, three fingered hand gripped her chin and pivoted her face around until she peered up at him.  His thumb skimmed over the fullness of her bottom lip.  “Everything you said, you’re right.  I only sought to protect you, to keep you safe from Dr. Grayston and The General since we have yet to locate them, though we do know they escaped police forces at NexGen the night of your escape.  In my determination to keep you safe, it seemed best to make you stay in the lair.” 

            Something low in her belly quivered at the second ghosting touch of his thumb on her bottom lip, and Feronia suddenly became blaringly aware of the hard, muscled body pressed up against the entire length of her.  Her backside seemed nestled snuggly up against his hips, his modified plastron-covered chest molded to her back, and the muscled arm wrapped around her waist seemed to tighten reflexively, pressing her even more solidly back against him.  The hand gripped against her hip turned caressing.

            Yet those intense blue eyes refused to relinquish their hold on her as his other hand released her chin to slide up to cup her cheek.

            For a moment, her breath caught in her throat, her heart hammered so hard against her ribs she was sure it would fly from her chest as his head dipped toward hers…

            The wail of police sirens deeper in the city suddenly rose in a cacophony of sound. 

            “Son of a…”  Leonardo cursed, closing his eyes and dropping his forehead against hers.

            A radio, attached to a strap that ran over his right shoulder from the harness he wore over his torso, squawked with the tinny sound of Donatello’s voice.  _“Leo, I have activity over here.”_

The warmth of his hand disappearing from her cheek, Leonardo reached over with and depressed the button on the radio.  “Mikey?”

            _“Heading there now.”_

            “Raphael, what is your 10-20?”

            _“In the alley behind the building you’re still on.”_

            “At least his disobedience comes in handy every now and then,”  Leonardo mumbled before returning his attention to her.

            “Give me a few days to figure something out.  Can you wait a few more days?  I swear to you, I will come up with some…solution.”

            For the span of several heartbeats, although they were still rapidly thudding heartbeats, Feronia searched Leonardo’s gaze for any sign of duplicity.  But all she saw was a sincere honesty, and a smoldering heat that called to her.  Not sure she could trust herself to speak, she nodded.

            His arm around her waist seemed to tighten once more, almost as if Leonardo quickly hugged her back to him, before all that glorious warmth stepped away and she could lower her wings.  Turning, he held out his hand, waiting.  “It seems Raphael has appointed himself your personal guard, for he never went fully back to the lair.  I’ll take you down to him, then I gotta get to Mikey and Donnie.  And when I get back, we’ll talk, yeah?”

            She wasn’t sure, but somehow, waiting for her to place her hand in his seemed to have far more implication than simply agreeing to go back to the lair, though she wasn’t entirely certain what those implications were, exactly.

            Feronia slid her small hand into his palm, his rough, three fingers closing around hers and he heaved a breath she wasn’t even aware he was holding.

            Silently, they made their way down the metal stairs that made up the fire escape to a waiting Raphael in the alley below.

            “You good?”  Raph directed at her, amber eyes taking in every nuance of her face.

            Realizing she was only just recently bawling her eyes out, she quickly scrubbed her free hand over her face, trying to erase the evidence of tears.  “Yes, Raphael.  Let’s go back to the lair.  I could use a cup of hot cocoa, I think.”

            As her hand slipped from Leonardo’s as she stepped with Raph toward the open manhole at the end of the alley, she felt the absence of his battle roughened, three fingered hand far more than she wanted to admit.

***


	8. Chapter Eight

 

            Stalking down a sewer pipe several hours later, one of the several that served as access tunnels to their new lair he called home, Leonardo’s mind whirled with a multitude of thoughts.  And every single one involved a particular winged beauty, if said thoughts didn’t outright revolve around her.  His mind laden with thoughts of Feronia were also the cause of the various aches emanating from several lacerations on his body, the result of being distracted during a sword fight.  _A sword fight with multiple opponents._

Images flashed to the forefront of his mind of silver eyes flashing as she raged up at him on that roof top, battering her hands against his chest, dark curls framing her face like a wild mane.   And for such a tiny thing, she had impressive force when she put a surge of wings behind her actions.  The top of her head barely crested his shoulders and at most she weighed a hundred and twenty pounds, and yet she managed to drive him back a time or two.  And the way she initially, instinctively, froze at his barked command for her to cease did not slip past his attention.

            Feronia was no longer pipe thin from a lifetime of containment and captivity.  When he had his arms wrapped around her, it was obvious the last several months living with them, training with Sensai and lifting weights with Raphael forged a lithe, feminine body with curves of lean muscle.  And all the indulgent eating with Mikey filled out her breasts a little more.

            Now, most men only dreamed of being able to call someone like her their own.

            Stopping suddenly in his tracks as Michelangelo and Donatello continued on ahead of him, he berated himself for his runaway thoughts.

            What purpose did they serve?  Feronia barely had a chance to live yet, and his rampant musings were pushing him to stake his claim.  But what life could a mutated turtle trained in ninja warfare offer for a life?  He lived in a sewer for heaven’s sake!  _But she’s a mutant too…_

            With a growl, he resumed his pace down the tunnel. 

            No.  Leonardo would do right by Feronia, and that meant total honesty from here on out about the danger she was in.  But he would seize his raging hormones and wrestle them down. 

He would not pursue innocent Feronia.

            Striding through the lair entrance at the end of the tunnel, his honorable high road lasted all of two and a half paces into the lair.  His scanning gaze spotted her curled up in her reading chair.  There she was, wings furled around herself, black curls cascading like a dark sea about her shoulders as she peered down at a book perched in her lap.

            One growling thought slammed through him like a freight train.

            _Mine…_

            And that one word kept rumbling through his head while he made his way through the lair, his focus so intently on Feronia the surroundings of the lair were nonexistent.  He knew the moment she heard his approach.  Her head rose from over her book and her eyes went wide as they flitted over his form, and he had to bite back a curse as he swore he could feel her gaze like a caress against his green hide.

            Vaulting out of her chair, she rushed over to him, brow creased in worry as her small hands hovered over several of the deeper gashes he had sustained.

            “What happened?  You’re hurt!  I briefly saw Mikey and Donnie come back, are they hurt too?”

            He smirked down at her.  “These?  These paper cuts?”

            “Paper cuts!”  Feronia parroted, voice tinged with worry.  “These are more than minor wounds…this one is still bleeding!”  As if to prove her point, one small hand settled feather-light against the deepest one that ran in a diagonal down across his chest.  Lifting her hand, she held the fingers dotted with blood mere inches from his nose.

            Wrapping his fingers around her wrist, he drew her hand down away from his face.  “Feronia…one of the perks of being a mutant such as my brothers and I is that we heal rather well.  These will be nothing but a few fresh scars by tomorrow morning.  Come.”  Leo began drawing her after him as he headed to his own private room.  “I have some of Donatello’s salve and some disinfectant in my room.  If you like, you can help me with some of the gashes that are harder to reach.”

            Wordlessly she followed behind him as he led her through the threshold of his private room, closing the door behind them.  Turning, he found her staring interestedly around at her new surroundings, and he realized she was the first he ever brought into his domain.  He and his brothers spent so much time together that there was a strict rule about their private spaces, and few people came into his space.

            “Who are all these guys in these posters?” she queried, spinning around in a slow circle.    

            Moving over to a dresser, he rooted around in the top drawer for the small tin of healing salve he kept in his room, a bag of clean rags, and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide.  “They are some of my favorite martial arts actors from movies.  That there is Jet Li from The Expendables,  Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan, Chuck Norris…”  At her blank look, he berated himself.  “You have never heard of these actors, have you?”

            Feronia shook her head, turning away to take in the rest of his surroundings.

           “Well,” Leonardo began as he drew his katana’s from their sheaths strapped to his shell, setting them reverently onto a couple stands sitting atop his dresser, “we will have to change that.”

           For a moment, he watched her take in the surroundings of his private room, wondering what she thought of them as he tried to see them from her perspective. 

            Several Japanese lanterns were strung up across the ceiling, each one with dark squiggles and dashes on the surface of the delicate paper that housed the small bulbs that flared to life within.  But other than that and the posters lining one wall, there was not a lot of flair to his room.  It was a more sophisticated and simple traditional Japanese style, where _less was more_.  And he truly found he sought the simplistic nature of his room often to clear his head. 

           The entire floor of this chamber had been covered in mats made of rice straw, a luxury April gifted him with last year for Christmas?  His bed wasn’t on an elevated frame like usual, instead the mattress sitting on a thick slab of wood elevated by four cinder blocks, one on each corner.  The blanket neatly tucked around the mattress was a deep, deep blue.  A single, five drawer dresser was tucked into one corner, his twin katanas sitting in their wooden stands atop the dressers surface.

          Holding out his arms in a gesture to encompass his surroundings, he grinned down at her.  “So what is the verdict?  Do you like my fortress of solitude?”

           He knew she would get the reference…Superman was her favorite obsession at the moment. 

          “I like it.  It doesn’t feel so…cluttered.  Raphael has stuff all over his room.   Weights, magazines, you name it.  Donatello lives in his lab, and has so many projects he is tinkering around on I can’t turn around without nearly knocking something off of a table with one of my wings.  And I am not sure Michelangelo has ever picked up his room.”

          Jealousy threatened to spear through him at the thought of his brothers inviting her into their own private space as well.  But he was better than petty jealousy toward his brothers when he knew they were only trying to make her feel welcome and comfortable with residing in their home.

           Picking up the items he extracted from his dresser moments ago, he handed them to Feronia.  “There are several wounds at my side that may be difficult for me to get.”  They weren’t all that difficult for him to treat on his own, actually, but he wanted an excuse to have her hands on him with a purpose other than battering in anger and fear against his chest.

          Feronia lit up with keen interest as she took the items from him and followed him the edge of his bed, wrapping her wings loosely back around her so she could lower herself alongside him.  “Ooh!  I’m fascinated by your sides!  Well, you and your brothers.”

           That excitedly spoken comment had him stilling, staring down at her as he tried to figure out the inner workings of that curious little mind of hers while he raised his left arm to give her room to work.  “My sides?  Of all aspects of a giant mutated turtle, you find our sides fascinating?”

           “Yes!”  Feronia exclaimed as she unscrewed the cap from the bottle of disinfectant and tipped enough of the liquid out to saturate a corner of a clean rag.  “I have been reading a lot of Zoology textbooks because I wanted to learn more about you and the differences and similarities there are with actual turtles.”

            “Why?”  Curiosity completely overpowered any sting from the disinfectant as Feronia leaned forward, dabbing at the shallow cut with the rag and cleaning off dried blood and dirt from the city while doing his damndest to ignore the alluring floral scent of her hair from the shampoos April brought her that teased his senses.

            “Because I’m curious.  For instance, you and your brothers seem more human than turtle.  I mean sure, you have these massive shells on your back and a chest protected by a plastron, but your shell doesn’t _actually_ attach to your chest.”  She poked him in the hide against his side for emphasis.  “You don’t have tails, from what I have seen anyway.  And you have hands and feet, not claws.  Even your teeth are like mine.   You’re brilliant…I can’t imagine turtles having a vast intelligence… Yet I find it fascinating how much of you remains turtle.  Your skin isn’t like mine,” Leo had to repress a shiver of pleasure as she ran the palm of her hand down his forearm before returning to her administrations to his side.  He was certain Feronia wasn’t even aware of her actions, or what those actions did to him.  What they would do to any man.  “It’s like toughened skin. Almost like you guys walk around in living body armor. And of course, you are this deep green.  Did you know green has always been my favorite color?”

            “No, I didn’t know that,” he answered, hoping like hell she wouldn’t notice the sudden roughened note to his voice.  When she described he and his brothers like that, the word _freak_ was the furthest from his mind. 

And that little tidbit about her favorite color was a fact he committed to memory.

            Spreading on a thin layer of the healing ointment, she taped a strip of gauze to the gash before leaning back once finished and turning those silver eyes up to him.  God, those stunning eyes were practically his undoing.  Swallowing thickly, he gestured wordlessly to the deeper gash across his chest, wanting her hands on him more.

            For a while, silence stretched on between them as she cleaned and dressed each gash, wincing when she thought the disinfectant would sting a particularly deep section and sighing in relief when she saw no reaction from his schooled features. 

            Although she had no idea he was keeping himself under such strict control not because of the discomfort from treating his wounds, but because he was dangerously close to burying a hand in all those long, silky, black curls and finally kissing her like he had been fantasizing for months now.  The fact that they were sitting on his bed wasn’t helping his raging libido either – he had dreamt of what her body would feel like under his.  Stupid hormones.

            He was a lethally trained ninja, and he did not bring Feronia to his room to seduce her.  Privacy had been his goal.  He would control himself.

            “There, all done.  Try not to get so diced up the next time you go to the surface, hmm?”

            With an answering chuckle, he retrieved the items and stood, crossing his room to return them to their place in his top dresser drawer.  Turning around, he caught her gaze, feeling his pulse kick up a notch when she held it unwaveringly.  And not in a challenging way.  It was submission to a stronger authority.  _Shit, he was in deep trouble._ For Leonardo was discovering that that submission really turned him on.

            Shaking his head, he crossed back to her, lowering down to one knee to bring his eyes more level with hers.  “I didn’t bring you here so you could help me dress a few scratches, Feronia.  On that rooftop earlier, I promised we would talk, and I intend to hold true to that promise.”

            Silver eyes widening with each word, she nodded, nibbling on her plump lower lip. 

            Leonardo had to suppress a groan.  Perhaps dragging her off to his private bedroom for this conversation was not the wisest course of action.

            But true to his word, he told her everything he and his brothers knew of The General and Dr. Grayston since that night at NexGen; details of the occurrence of raids that had picked up in the last couple of months by Foot Clan and now, mercenaries.  Information Chief Vincent of the New York Police Department had been able to dig up on those two main players.  The course of action he thought best to keep her safe, such as the nightly patrols of the city.  Everything was shared with her, and every question she could come up with, he tried to answer fully and honestly.

            Hours later, as she paced back and forth while chewing on a thumb nail, Leonardo sat on his bed, waiting patiently as she turned everything he had just thrown at her over in her mind.  Indigo brushed, black-feathered wings rustled with the soft sound of feathers as she made her way to one wall of his room and turn to him with mouth open as if to voice a though, only to pace to the other side of the room instead.  

            After a dozen passes in front of him, he sighed.  “Feronia, stop.”

            She stopped in mid-stride.

            “Just spit out what you’re thinking.”

            Wringing her hands, she moved to stand before him, nearly coming to a halt in the space between his knees.  He was glad he was sitting so he wasn’t towering over her during this conversation. “I…I understand why you tried to keep all of that from me.  But I’m not some fragile thing, Leo.”

            “I know that.  I really do, otherwise you would never have survived NexGen.”

            She gave a dainty little snort.  “Not with my mind intact, anyway.”

            This time he did growl, the sound low and deep in his throat. 

            One small, feminine hand settled against the curve of his cheek.  “Leo, I get that you want to protect me, yet I can’t stay down here in your lair forever.  I deserve to be outside, to explore and see the world.  And I can’t learn to protect myself if you keep pivotal information from me, even when done with the best intentions.”

            “Feronia, if you just go running about outside, your unique…”

“My _angel_ wings?”

“Yes, your uniqueness will cause you to become a note of public interest.  Trust me.  As a mutant turtle, I know something of the harsh reactions people have.  If that happens, I don’t know if I can keep the General and Dr. Grayston from getting their hands on you again.  And I _refuse_ to allow that to happen.  But I promised you I would figure out something, and I will.  While those that mean you harm are at large, though, you need to try to cooperate with me.  Can you do that?  Be patient for a little while longer?”

            “For how long?”

            Exhaustion was beginning to creep in on him, and he dragged a hand down his face, catching her fingers in his as he did.  “I don’t know, but I swear I will come up with a solution to keep you safe _and_ which will give you more freedom.  I swear it.”

            At his declaration, a huge smile bright enough to rival the sun lit up her features.  And right that instant, Leonardo swore he would do anything to get her to smile at him like that more often.

            With her standing so close he could feel the heat emanating from her soft, feminine body, he knew he had to get her out of his room before he took that final step, the one where there was no coming back from.  The one that would have him drawing her lips against his, hauling her up against him and laying her back into the soft support of his mattress as he tasted every inch of her porcelain skin.  He may never have had a romantic relationship with a girl before, never even kissed one, and was as virgin as they came save for what the internet could show him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t imagine how it would be having Feronia in his arms. 

            “Why don’t you get some rest, Sweetheart.  We can talk about this more in the morning.”

            Nodding, she crossed the room to his bedroom door, opening it enough to slip out into the lair with a final smile sent his way.  “Good night, Leonardo.”

***

            It wasn’t until she was nearly to her own room when she realized Leonardo used a term of endearment that she had only so far seen used in the whirlwind stories of one of her many romance novels.  As she slipped into her own room, closing the door behind her, she leaned back against the cool metal of her door, letting her head fall back with a plunk.  That sentiment he called her had her feeling all gooey inside, and Feronia realized she really, really, _really_ liked Leonardo calling her sweetheart. 

            Damnit, she was such a turkey.  Or was it chicken?  One of the many times he had been so close to her she could see every nuance in the textured skin of his face, could clearly see the light slashes of the scar that broke the green of his right cheek or the still-pink scar that cut down over his forehead above his right eye… Feronia heaved a sigh. 

She should have kissed him.

***

            One week later and Feronia was beginning to worry that Leonardo would not hold true to his world.  The mere thought of that though seemed so against his nature.  The ninja leader seemed to define himself by his honesty and integrity, so the notion seemed almost absurd that a mere week ago he gave her false words while swearing he would come up with a solution to her current confinement if she would be patient but a little while longer.  But when one spent their entire life as a secret scientific experiment, rarely getting even a mere glimpse of the outside world, patience was not exactly in high supply. 

            But every time some dire situation somewhere out in that concrete metropolis of New York City needed the brothers, they never hesitated to don weapons and charge out of the lair to carry out whatever heroics they did on a nightly basis.  The new difference was every night before he ran out of the lair, he stopped long enough to give her a quick rundown of details, what it was calling them to action.  Like what had he and his brothers bolting from the lair several hours ago was that Donatello picked up Foot Clan activity; three raids occurring simultaneously.

            To Feronia, it seemed as if these Foot Clan men, remnants of Shredder’s ninja army, were intentionally trying to spread the turtles thin.  The whole _divide and conquer_ thing.  She did worry about each of them every time their domed shells disappeared down one of the tunnels.  That sight usually meant they were heading off into danger.

            Although, since the night she spent treating Leonardo’s wounds in his bedroom, he had yet to return to the lair with more than a nick or two.

            And as soon as she thought of that night, she couldn’t get the memory of what the plastron-protected contours of his muscled chest felt like beneath her fingers.  The man was only a massive six feet of rippling muscle and green hide, the bulk of his shell only adding to his intimidating presence.  He had felt so warm to the touch, and had studied her so intently with unwavering, cobalt-blue eyes that seemed to take in every little thing she did with a look on his face she couldn’t decipher. 

            Most nights, Mikey, Don, and Raph would make their way exhaustedly back hours before Leo returned.  And nearly every night the pull of exhaustion dragged her down into slumber before her ninja returned.  Upon rising, she would find he was already getting his own much needed rest in his own room…

            Wait.  _Her ninja?_ When did she start thinking of Leonardo as _her ninj_ a _?_ As soon as that thought surfaced, she realized how much she wished she could call him her man.  But she wasn’t exactly certain he was interested in her in more than a protector capacity.

            On the eighth night, Feronia awoke to the surroundings of her now familiar room in the lair, buried up to her eyeballs in a thick comforter.  Extricating herself from the mounds of cottony warmth, she glanced blearily over at the small clock sitting on the nightstand near the bed.  The numbers of nine pm glowed at her.  With a gasp, Feronia flung the covers aside and practically leaped out of bed, unknowingly stepping on the tip of a wing as she moved toward the door until a dark feather plucked out of her wing.

            “Ow!”  Cursing under her breath, she hitched her wings up so they no longer trailed along the floor of her room. 

            She had meant to wake up early in order to try and catch a word or two with Leo before he left!

            Swinging the door open, a very quiet lair greeted her.  No movie was flicking across the screen of the large TV near the sofas.  All the lights in the cornered off area that was the kitchen were off.  For a moment, she stood stock still, trying to hear the sound of Raphael lifting weights or the clinking sounds of Donatello tinkering around in his lab.  There was nothing.  Even Splinter seemed to be gone!

            Indigo tipped wings drooped as she realized everyone was already gone and she missed her chance to catch Leonardo’s attention for a few minutes.  She promised she would be patient, she promised she would be patient…Feronia chanted the litany in her mind while she returned to her room to gather new clothes for the day before heading to the shower.

            By the time she had herself squeaky clean, she felt much more refreshed.   Half way down the bathroom tunnel to her lair, she swore she saw the quick flick of a thick, brown tail.

With a gasp, Feronia bounded forward.  “Splinter!”

            The large rat popped his head out from the doorway of the training room.  “Is there something you need, my child?  Shall I set up your training course for this evening?”

            Shaking her head as she jogged up to Splinter, she dipped down low in an honoring bow as he had taught her…the respect shown from student to teacher.  “I was just wondering where the guys where?  Where Leonardo might be or if you know when he is getting back?” she asked as she straightened back up to her height, a height no taller than the rat standing before her.

            Large brown eyes seemed to go wide for a second.  “That reminds me.”  With a gesture, he drew her attention over to a table by the sofas.  “My son asked me to tell you he left something for you.”

            Excitement instantly had her perking up.  “Thank you, Master Splinter.”  And without further preamble, she rushed over to the table.  He left… an empty bag?  Sure enough, an empty duffel bag sat on the wood surface, an envelope resting up against the side of the bag. 

            Brows diving in curiosity, she picked up the envelope, opening it absently while puzzling over the empty duffel bag.  Glancing inside the envelope, she fished out a folded piece of paper.  Opening it, Feronia recognized the bold script of Leonardo’s handwriting instantly.

 

                        _Feronia,_

_I had to head out before you awoke, though I should only be but a few      hours.  In the meantime, would you please pack whatever clothes and accessories you would like to take with you?_

_Your Leonardo._

 

            She actually had to reread the letter several times.  A few hours!  How long ago did _a few hours_ entail?  What if she slept in so long that only a few minutes were now left?  That notion spurred her into action.  With a rustle of feathered wings, she snatched up the duffel bag and bolted back to her room.  She didn’t have that many clothes – a few modified shirts, a jacket, three pairs of jeans and her two training pants, several matching sets of bra and panties –  all were crammed frantically into the depths of the duffel bag.  In a side pouch, she stuffed in every single pair of socks.  And just when she thought she had everything, toiletries surfaced to mind and she dashed back out of her room to sprint down the bathroom tunnel. 

            What could his letter mean?  Did the blasted man have to be so vague and brief?  Perhaps he was taking her somewhere?  But…where to?

            A hundred other questions flitted about her mind as she stuffed her arms with bottles of shampoo, swiped her toothbrush and toothpaste from the sink, and dashed back to the duffel bag sitting on her bed.  Stuffing those procured items into the other side pouch, she was just yanking the zipper closed over the bulging sides of the duffel bag, or trying to anyway, when she heard voices out in the lair.

            “This is no fair, brah!  How come we have to wait?  Why can’t we head out right away too?”

            “Because Leonardo said to give him a couple hours before we leave.”

            “It’s still no fair, Donnie!  Tell him, Raph.”

            “I’m goin’ to my weight room.”

            “Is that all you ever do?  Pump iron?”

            “Will you three shut it?  You are going to ruin everything.”

            Joy spiked through her.  That was Leo’s voice!  Spinning around, she bolted back out of her room only to collide headlong into a mountain of muscle and shell, practically ricocheting backward so hard she would have sprawled backward right on her ass if not for the big, rough hand that snagged hold of one elbow, halting her destiny with the concrete floor.

            “Whoa, Sweetheart,” Leonardo exclaimed as he righted her back to her feet.  “Slow down.”

            Several locks of black curls had fallen forward into her vision, and she tried to poof them out of the way with several puffs of air before she gave up and brushed them aside. 

            “Dude!  He’s calling her sweetheart now!  Awww.”

            “Don’t you have something you should be doing?”  Leo bit off over his shoulder at his orange masked brother.

            “Like what?”

            “I don’t know, anything.  Just go do it.”

            Feronia leaned over enough to peer around the wall that was Leonardo toward the youngest brother who was already making his way out of the lair with a toss of his hands.  Donatello must have already disappeared into his lab, and the clinking of metal weights already came from Raphael’s workout room.

            “Pfft, someone’s super bossy tonight.”

            “Mikey…”

            “I’m going, I’m going.”

            Dropping his hand away to run a palm over the smooth dome of his head, he waited until they were the only two left in the lair. 

            “Leo, what’s going on?  Splinter showed me the note you left.  It was a little…”

            “Vague?”

            The bastard actually smirked.

            “Yes, quite.”

            “That’s because I have a surprise for you.  Come with me.”

            A deep note of command laced those last words, and she was walking along beside him before she even made a conscious decision to do so as he turned and prowled out of the lair down the access pipe.

            “Where are we going?” she asked, curiosity practically humming through every inch of her.

            “It’s a surprise.”

            “What kind of surprise?  What about the bag I just packed?”

            With a deep chuckle, he glanced down at her as he led her through the wide tunnel access of the underground lair.  “If I answered that, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise, would it?  As far as your bag?  The guys will bring it with them later.  But we have to make time.  I don’t want to lose the cover of darkness tonight.”

            The cover of darkness?  Making time?  What the heck was this surprise?

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steaminess and to come very soon!


	9. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine**

Feronia blinked.

            “My surprise is a motorcycle?” she asked, voice ending an octave higher than it started.  Even the fact she was currently standing in a dark alley just outside, _outside_ , a manhole entrance to the labyrinth of sewers below failed to mitigate the odd curiosity currently stealing her attention.  “Wait a minute…isn’t that one of the very projects I have been tinkering on with Donatello over the last few months?”

            The rolling rumble of a masculine chuckle behind her sent butterflies to flight low in her belly as Leonardo dragged the thick steel of the manhole cover back over the entrance before walking around where she stood rooted to the paved alleyway, moving his shelled bulk alongside the metal monstrosity of black and chrome.  “It sure was one of the bikes. But we have quite a drive, and your surprise lies at the end of the journey.” 

            Two helmets hung off one of the handles of the steering column.  Unbuckling the smaller of the two, he turned and tossed it to her.  She was lucky she caught it in her current stupefied state, but the action of snatching the helmet sailing at her out of the air spurred her into action and she hurried to the towering ninja’s side.   

            As he began shrugging into what looked like a huge trench coat, he gestured with jerk of his chin to the helmet gripped between her two hands.  “Get that helmet on and strapped tight, then wrap those wings of yours around you like you do when you are reading in your chair.”

            Well, that was an odd request… Quickly sliding the helmet over her head, the sounds of the city around them went muffled as the protective gear slid into place.  It was after trying to fiddle with the strap that supposedly attached under her chin three times and failing before she gave up with a growl.  “Leo…I can’t get this blasted thing hooked…” 

            Strong, warm fingers brushed her fumbling digits aside.  “Chin up.” 

            With quick efficiency, her helmet was strapped securely to her skull, and she took several steps back to give her the space needed to draw the six feet aviary limbs out and around to settle before her like the enclosure of a cloak. 

            Donning a large, black trench coat that covered his shelled form from shoulder to calves, Leonardo was just strapping on his own helmet, big enough to accommodate his larger, uniquely shaped skull and face as she finished settling her wings around her. 

Slinging one leg over the big machine and tilting it upright to balance between his legs, he flipped the protective visor of his helmet up, casting those blue eyes back over his shoulder to her and gestured her over until she drew up alongside of him next to the motorcycle. 

            One three-fingered, green hand patted the cycle’s seat before him.  “On you go…you’ll have to ride in front of me because of my shell.”

            “Ah, hence needing my wings out of the way,” Feronia returned as Leo half twisted from the waist to give her room to lift a leg over and settle on the seat before him.  “Where am I supposed to hang on to?”

            This time his low chuckle hummed through her as he lowered himself to the bike, the solid, muscled planes of his front melding against the open expanse of her back now exposed between her open wing-base.  Even through that thick looking trench coat, Feronia could feel the warmth of him.  Strong thighs that might as well have been hewn from rock settled around her hips as he fit himself against her.  As he reached up with his free arm to grip the other handle of the steering column, she found herself completely caged in by a mountain of muscled, mutant-turtle.

            “I doubt you will go anywhere, but if you need, you can lean forward a bit and rest your hands against the gas tank in front of you.  It’s dark enough tonight that I don’t think anyone will be able to pick up the details of your wings if you keep them tucked around you like that.  They will look like a type of coat.  Think you can maintain them in that hold for a while?”

            Turning to answer him, the front of her helmet bopped off of his.  “Ooh!  Sorry!  Um, I think I would be okay for a few hours…it doesn’t take a lot of straining to maintain them this way.”

            He nodded, reached forward to insert a key and twisted it to ON, pulled out the choke, the cords in his left arm bunching as the clutch lever was squeezed as he suddenly stood, then kicked down on a lever with his foot.  The machine roared to life beneath them before settling into a low rumble.  Easing back down, a tap on her helmet had her twisting to look over her shoulder at him.

            All she could see inside his helmet were those piercing blue eyes.

            “You ready?”

            Excitement skyrocketed as she nodded.  Reaching up to slide the protective window of his helmet down, he shifted into gear and they rolled forward. 

            Her heart began to thud against her ribs as the motorcycle headed toward the open end of the alleyway.  Now and then a car would roll past as someone out in New York continued on their own journey for the night.  But the end of the dark alley seemed like something huge; much more than just a mere alley opening up into a main city road.  Behind her, deep beneath tons of formed cement and inlaid pipes was a haven that had become a home to her.  It was safety and security.  Yet she knew she needed to see what was out there.  The world opened up just beyond this dark alley, and Feronia had little notion of what to expect beyond what she could gleam the few times she had a tiny taste of freedom from the rooftop of a towering building of New York City.

            As Leo brought the motorcycle to a halt just at the end of the alley, Feronia instinctively gripped a hand onto a muscled thigh on either side of her.  With her wings wrapped around her as they were, her arms remained closed in, so she had minimal movement.

            But he must have felt her fingers digging into his legs, because her helmeted head was pivoted toward him as he leaned around her to his right to get a good look at her.  “Hey, you alright there?”

            “Yes,” she nodded.  “It’s just new and exciting and overwhelming all at the same time and I—”

            He flipped the protective visor on both their helmets up, interrupting her babbling string of words.  Blue eyes held hers with the blazing intensity of a warrior.  “I’ve got you, okay?  Breathe.”

            And she didn’t even know she was holding her breath until her lungs filled with a huge rush of air.

            Something in her gaze must have satisfied whatever it was he was looking for, because with a final nod, he slid the visors on their helmets back down, cranked the throttle on the bike, and they roared out of the alleyway.

***

            Feronia was certain there could be nothing more exhilarating than this very moment, this very motorcycle ride, as Leonardo directed the machine through the city with unerring accuracy.  Eventually, the city began to dwindle away until nothing but long stretches of road cut through the darkness.  She couldn’t make out too much as shapes loomed up alongside the road only to whiz by in a blur. 

            Glancing up, the night sky was like a canvas of black dotted with trillions of tiny white dots as stars became more and more present the further they left illumination of New York City behind them.  Now and then Leo would throttle the motorcycle down to take a turn at an intersection, but then the fast increase in speed would have her pressing back up against him as they went roaring down the new stretch of road. 

            The first few times they whizzed past an oncoming car driving safely in its own lane, she almost came out of her skin with fright.  Now that barely fazed her. 

            She was so enraptured with everything whirling past her she nearly forgot about the warm, male presence cocooning her to the bike until one hand let go of the steering column.  This time, she nearly came out of her skin for an entirely different reason as that same large, rough hand settled low on her waist, just above her hip where the edge of her wing wrapped around to the front, and slid along her side to settle against her belly beneath the mass of feathers.  All she had donned was a modified, long-sleeved shirt since she hadn’t known she was in for a motorcycle ride, although the cloaking warmth of her wings kept her plenty warm throughout the nightly ride.  Well, that and the wall of muscle at her back that was radiating warmth.

            Feronia lost track of time as he drew her back to him with that strong hand against her stomach during the straight stretches of road, his hand withdrawing only to make a turn before sliding back under her folded wings.  And he would switch up the hand that remained on the steering column to drive the bike.

            It didn’t dawn on her until the coolness seeping through the thin material of her shirt from his three fingered hand registered that she realized his hands must be getting cold from the ride and he was seeking a way to warm them.  She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face inside the helmet.  All four brothers seemed like such strong, towering heroes that little instances like Leonardo tucking his hand against her beneath her wings, the feathers protecting her warmth from being whisked away by the brisk wind generated by the motorcycles speed, or striding into the lair with an array of raw, bleeding gashes needing tending, only made them all seem more human despite outward appearances.  It was almost humbling, for she had first hand experiences that those who looked the most human could be monstrous within.

            She was once again musing about the glittering night sky…until he started tracing small circles against the planes of her stomach with a thumb, sending all coherent thought scattering to the four winds.

            Just as she started wondering how far he intended to travel with her, his hand slid out from under the protection of feathered wings and he regripped the steering column with both hands to throttle the engine down, turning the bike off of paved road and onto a stretch of gravel that disappeared in a bend between the towering heights of surrounding trees.

            The night sky was just beginning to lighten with streaks of light that tinged fluffy clouds into arrays of golden and pink hues when a building came into view.  It seemed large and square, with slightly off white siding, dark squares of paned-glass windows breaking up the solid wall of the building that faced them.

            The motorcycling rumbling low, Leonardo brought the bike to a halt a few feet from a set of five wooden steps that led to a railed porch, the dark tones of the wood wrapping around the front of the building to disappear along either side.

            For a moment, all she could do was sit there, gazing up at the building sitting dark and silent in a little pocket of surrounding trees.  She wanted this helmet off now.  Fumbling with the clasp of the chin strap until she could lift the helmet off her head, she practically scrambled off of the motorcycle as Leonardo kept it upright with a chuckle.

            This…she knew this, only before it had only been something painted by imagination from reading her books.  “This is a house!”  Feronia exclaimed in barely a whisper, black wings slowly unfurling to come to a half raised position of alertness at her back.

            She could sense Leonardo moving behind her, killing the engine as the rumbling sound of the engine died and he shrugged out of the huge trench coat, tossing it over the bike with a curse.  “Let it be known that I hate that coat.”

            Feronia turned toward the lethally trained ninja, vision blurring with the threat of tears.  “You brought me to a house?”

            Birds began to tweet throughout the trees around them, awakening to the pull of dawn.

            A huge, wide grin lit up his face, and she thought he never looked more handsome.  Leonardo didn’t smile enough, she decided then and there, and she was going to do something about it if she could.

            He gestured toward the door, the rectangle of wood and paned glass waiting like a silent invitation at the top of the porch stairs.  “One of the reasons I have been gone so often from the lair this last week is after talking with April about how I wanted to try and help you have more space and be less confined, she informed me she grew up on a small dairy farm in northern New York State, but since her parents died several years ago, this place has sat empty since she couldn’t bring herself to part with the house and land.  So she rents the field lands around it to a local fellow dairy farmer.  We took a drive out here to check it out, and I thought you might like to stay here for a while.”

            Leonardo had arranged all of this to help accommodate her situation.  Her hands flew to mouth in a surge of overwhelming emotion as the tears that had been threatening to blur her vision now spilled over, tracking down her cheeks.  This was the single most thoughtful gesture anyone had ever done for her in her entire life aside from her father’s initial attempt to help her escape NexGen labs. 

            Her wings began to do that shiver thing she couldn’t control when intense emotions were surging through her being. 

            There was a crunch of gravel, then rough fingers slowly encircled her wrists, drawing her hands down away from her face as pools of cobalt blue filled her vision.  “Hey, those better be happy tears.”

            “Oh, Leo,” she choked out, quickly swiping away the wet tracks on her cheeks.  “You have no idea how elated I am right now.”  

            Stepping away from him, she took a few paces away and threw her arms and wings open, spinning in a circle, face uplifted to the sky as a joyous, tearful laugh bubbled up from deep within her.  A sky beginning to deepen into a gorgeous sea of blue that rivaled the color of Leonardo’s eyes, fluffy white clouds, and the deep green of trees in full bloom all spun together in one amazing kaleidoscope.  “Look at all of this!  I never knew so much color existed in the whole world!”

***

            As Leonardo stood there watching the winged human spin around slowly in a circle, elation coming off of her in waves as she tipped her face to the lightening sky above, those last words knifed through him.  He should have never kept her down in the lair for so fucking long.  Seeing Feronia experience the beautiful visage only the countryside can give for the first time, he couldn’t help the shame that rose within him.  It was an odd sensation of warring thoughts and emotions, because that shame rose alongside a need to protect her and keep her safe.   Was he truly no better than those that created her at NexGen only to raise her in the confines of a research lab?  The only difference was his confinements were the lair he called home, or now, a remote farmhouse. 

            In that moment, he swore he would not rest until Feronia could run through this world with no threats after her.  Until she was completely and utterly free.  He would double his efforts, push himself and his brothers harder and faster and longer if need be.

            He let her take her fill of the scenery of the front yard, waiting with the patience of a highly trained ninja as she began dashing about the yard with a huge smile and full laughter at her lips; smelling flowers and touching the rough bark of tree trucks, running her hand through the leaves fluttering in the wind at the end of tree branches.

            Suddenly she turned and bolted to him, black curls streaking out behind her.  Two arms flung themselves around his neck as she leapt bodily at him.  “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” she babbled, and he couldn’t help a bark of laughter as he caught her to him with one arm around her waist, slowing her momentum down by spinning them both around once before setting her back on her feet.

            Her cheeks were flushed with a healthy dash of pink from her excitement, and the silver pools of her eyes sparkled with a new life.   Fuck, she was gorgeous.  Feronia deserved the world, and he would give it to her if she asked.

            Brushing a wild tangle of black curls back behind one dainty ear, he grinned back down at her, her excitement infectious.  “Want to see the inside of the house?”

            “Oh my god!  _Yes_!”

            And before he could react, her hand snagged hold of his, and he found himself practically hauled along behind her as she dashed toward the front door.  They ran up the steps of the porch, and as he fished out the set of keys April loaned him from the depths of his right pocket on his black cargo pants, Feronia bounced on the balls of her feet.

            “Come on, Leo, come on!”

            “I’m coming, I’m coming.” 

            As soon as the deadbolt _chunked_ open, Feronia was twisting the door knob and bursting into the house.  He heard a loud gasp.  “It’s gorgeous!”

            “How can you tell?  The lights aren’t even on.”  Striding in, he searched the walls around the doorway for a light switch.  The house was old, with light switches one had to push in, the top round button popping out as he did so.  Lights flicked on in a mudroom attached to a large kitchen. 

            He heard her gasp again.  “You were right; it’s even more gorgeous in the light!”

            Now he really busted out laughing.  “Feronia!  It’s a kitchen.”  This time he snagged her hand and drew her through the kitchen to a door that lead to a living room, the furniture placed around the room still covered in white sheets to keep them protected from dust.  He began dragging a few off, coughing on the clouds of dust that billowed up around him.  He should have sent one of his brothers out here to clean the place up a bit first.

            “Sorry about the dust, Sweetheart.”

            The winged woman actually scoffed at him.  “Dust?  Are you kidding me?  I could care less about dust.  I will happily get this place squeaky clean if it means I can stay here.”

            Crumpling the dusty sheet into a ball, he tossed it into a corner near the kitchen door.  “That’s the idea…a different place for you to stay for a while.  Your presence still has to remain hidden, remain secret, until my brothers and I finally ferret out where The General and Dr. Grayston disappeared to, but I was hoping staying here would give you more of the freedom you have been craving.”

            She clapped her hands together.  “And I can try to learn to fly?”

            He nodded in answer.  “You would have the space and privacy to learn to fly.  Come on, I will show you the rest of the house.  There are four bedrooms upstairs, so you can take your pick.”  He flicked his gaze over the rise of her wings behind her head.  “You may want to pick the biggest room…give yourself the most space possible to maneuver in this house with your wings.”

            Feronia was like a force that couldn’t be contained as they climbed the stairs together and checked out each and every room.  The house was old and only had one bathroom on the ground floor, but four sizable bedrooms made up the second.  She took his advice and chose the most spacious room, one with a second story balcony that faced the wood-edged back yard to the north, and with several large windows along the neighboring west wall.  Old blue striped wallpaper lined the walls, and the expanse of a large, king sized bed sat against the wall opposite of the balcony doors.

            She couldn’t quite extend her wings fully, but she flopped backward onto the bed anyway, a happy giggle dissolving into a choking fit as the cloud of dust from the covering sheet enveloped her.

            “We need to get all of this cleaned up before any of this crap is used.  Come,” he urged, tugging the sheet and the bedding beneath it off and beginning to bundle it in his arms.  I think there is a washer and dryer in the basement…why don’t we scope it out?”

            Before long, they were down in a fieldstone basement, twisting knobs and pushing buttons on an ancient looking washing machine.  Yet water began flowing into the basin, and they filled it with a couple dusty sheets before adding soap and closing the lid to let the machine work its magic before heading upstairs. 

            Striding back into the kitchen, he pulled open the refrigerator and freezer doors to peer inside, thanking April’s thoughtfulness when he saw a fresh gallon of milk and a case of water in the refrigerator, and several frozen pizza’s in the freezer.  The meager supplies were more than plenty to hold them over for a night or two, but he would have April do some shopping and send it with one of his brothers to bring when they finally were to head out this way.

            It was then he realized Feronia wasn’t in the kitchen with him at all.  Hearing the creak of old hardwood floors out in the living room, he headed that way.  Once he caught sight of her though, he paused in the doorway, leaning a shoulder against the jam as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.  She was standing before the fireplace, looking at several framed pictures atop the mantle, dark, indigo-and-black wings in the picturesque pose of every angelic picture out there, that mane of wild curls cascading down her back to tumble between those feathered limbs, and Leonardo felt his gut clench low and deep. 

            He hadn’t planned on talking to her about it yet…but maybe now was the perfect time after all.  Pushing off the door frame, he moved into the room, drawing up behind her.

***

            “It looks like April had a wonderful family,” Feronia mused as she took in pictures of a family, arms around each other and smiles abound.  She couldn’t imagine what that life would have been like.

            Sensing Leonardo’s presence behind her, she looked over her shoulder up at him.  And she couldn’t imagine living any other life than the one she had been dealt.  Any other life might have meant she never would have met _him_.

            The look burning in his eyes from behind the blue mask-like bandana he favored had her swallowing thickly even as she couldn’t interpret such a look.  But she held his gaze. 

            “So this house will work?”

            All she seemed to manage was a nod in affirmation. 

            Moving around her, he leaned up against the thick stone of the mantle, never once breaking eye contact.  Never once _allowing_ her gaze to break from his.  Reaching out, he ran his two fingers feather-light down her arm from shoulder to elbow and back before retracing the same path. 

            A shiver coursed through her, and that intense look seemed to turn smoldering.  As that hand gripped her arm and drew her closer to him, she was helpless but to shift closer, caught and pulled in the net of intensity and chemistry zinging about the air.

            Those eyes of deepest blue flicked down to her lips, and that’s when her heart took up a stampedes pace within her chest, thudding so hard she was certain Leonardo could hear it.  Vaguely she was aware of the chirping of birds as dawn opened into the full light of morning, but Feronia could care less.  All she wanted was him.

            And when his head began dipping towards hers, her breath picked up, panting as if she had just jogged down the driveway the two of them drove up only an hour ago.  What was she supposed to do?  Meet him part way? Keep her eyes locked on his, though he seemed only focused on her mouth at the moment.  Instead, she let her eyes drift shut, letting instinct rise to the surface.  She swore she could even feel his breath fan against her cheek.

            The trill of a cell phone cut throughout the quiet of the living room and she nearly startled out of her own skin. 

            His own chest heaving as he cast an incredulous gaze to the ceiling, he began fishing in the pockes of his cargo pants with jerkey movements.  “That’s it.  I’m going to kill my brothers.  Flat out murder them.”

            Extricating the slim black square of his phone, he pushed the flashing red button on the screen hard enough she was surprised the surface of the phone didn’t crack.  “What is it, Raphael.”

            She needed some space between her and all that was Leonardo, so she moved back to the middle of the living room as the six feet of muscled turtle and man growled into his phone. 

            “What do you mean they are back?  We haven’t seen Bepop and Rocksteady at all since we stopped Krang, and you’re telling me they just show back up?”  He paused, glaring at the hardwood floor as if his glare alone could combust the wood at his feet.  “Is he hurt bad?  Yeah, I’m on my way in a bit.  Hold tight.”

            And with that, he ended the call, looking back up at her as he slid the phone back into his pants pocket.  An unfathomable mask was over his face, too many thoughts and emotions flooding his features for her to interpret them fast enough.

            “Feronia, I’m sorry…”

            She waved off his words with a gesture.  Right now, she had an entire house to explore as well as the yard beyond, and she was pretty sure she saw a few sheds and a barn along with a towering column of concrete…that one she would have to ask about.  He just gave her the greatest gift – being able to live outside.  “Go do your hero thing, Leonardo.  It’s who you are.  I have plenty to do here until you get back.”

            Still, he lingered in that spot by the mantle as if he was torn.

            Moving before him, she placed a hand over the toughened hide of one firm pectoral.  “Go protect your city.”

            With a silent nod, he moved past her and through the living room as she stood in the middle of the vacant house, watching his shell retreat toward the front door.  She couldn’t deny the disappointment that knifed through her, but she understood the importance of what he and his brothers did for those that needed their protection, and she would not stand in his way, in any of their way.  What the turtles did was far more important than the maddening little craving she had to spend more time with the taciturn leader.

            Suddenly he froze at the doorway that lead to the kitchen.  With a bitten curse, Leonardo turned on his heal and was crossing back through the living room, chewing up the space between them in three long strides.  Two hands engulfed the sides of her face, sliding back into the tresses of her hair, and then a wide mouth was settling over hers.  His lips were firm yet sensual, and with a groan she couldn’t hold back, she leaned into him, all ability to think completely wrested from her control.  His mouth brushed over hers before he nibbled at the fullness of her lower lip, the small nip causing her to gasp.  It was all the invitation he needed, and he tilted her head, one hand sliding to cup the back of her skull as he slanted his mouth over hers in a full blown possession that she thought only existed on the pages of her books.  And when she felt the slick, textured surface of his tongue slide past her lips and against her own in a sensual, decadent caress, a moan wrenched itself from her throat, the sound muffled in the recess of his mouth. 

            That small sound seemed to fuel him, stoking his fire even greater, and Feronia discovered such a kiss could deepen even more, become even more overwhelming.  She wasn’t even aware she was pressed back up against the mantle of the fireplace until several framed pictures toppled over.

            Finally breaking the kiss, his blue eyes pierced hers as he gazed down at her, their chests heaving in unison.  “I need to get back to my brothers.”  Leondardo’s voice sounded rough and husky, and sexy as hell with the knowledge that _she_ had that kind of effect on him.  And that tone only caused her attraction for him to spike.  “But I will be back as swiftly as I can, and there is something I want to talk to you about, yeah?”

            All she could do was nod as much as the two large, green hands buried in her hair would allow. 

            “Good.”

            And with that, his mouth crashed down over hers again in a lightning-quick, searing kiss, and then he was striding through the house and back out the kitchen door. 

            All she could manage was to stand there, thankful for the stone mantle behind her for it was all that kept her on her feet, one trembling hand held to lips that still tingled from his burning kiss as she stared at the closed door his shelled back disappeared through.  The rumble of the motorcycle roared to life outside, slowly diminishing as she heard him drive out of the driveway.

            Holy shit, she thought.  Who knew Leonardo could kiss like _that_?  The man prided himself on his controlled presence, on his cool head and abject thinking, to lead his brothers into peril and come out the other side alive and whole through threats that sometimes threatened the integrity of the very world.  But what she just felt… that was all-consuming.  It was exquisitely intense, and Feronia knew she wanted more, and from no one but him.

            Once she had her mind back under her own control, she pushed away from the fireplace on knees that still felt like mush and turned to attack the house before her, turning all the energy awoken within her toward cleaning her new paradise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I am writing in the new movieverse that has thus far my favorite vision of the turtles, but I had to pull one teeny aspect from the old movies. Forgive me!


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

            _It takes a strong leader, my son, to not only accept the differences of those that fight with him, but to recognize those traits that are strengths and to build upon them._

            Master Splinter’s words rang through Leonardo’s mind while his eyes tracked the path of a weight-laden barbell, watching it rise and fall.

            “Raph, do you have to be lifting weights _while_ I am trying to talk to you?”  Leonardo grit out at his bulk of a brother.  “This is important.”  Mikey had taken a hard hit during the skirmish with a very much alive Bebop and Rocksteady, and his shoulder had been badly dislocated along with a busted forearm.  He would heal in a matter of days compared to how normal humans healed broken bones, but that still left their group out one man. 

With Mikey and Don already heading to April’s farmhouse in her news van, the lair seemed quiet.  And an odd sort of quiet, too.  There were no sounds of Feronia rustling about the space of the lair, no videogames clashing on the large screen TV as Mikey tried to fight his way through yet another Call of Duty, and Donnie’s lab sat vacant and dark.  He did catch sight of their father cross through the lair as the rat headed toward the training room.  Leo did not like the idea of leaving their father behind, but in Splinter’s own words… _This grumpy old rat is quite content to remain here.  I will keep an eye on our home.  You, my son, have everything handled well, I think._

            The clink of weights continuing to rise and fall as Raphael pressed the barbell up above him repeatedly were the only sounds that broke up the steady background noises of the lair and the sewers around them. 

            It was also taking every ounce of his training to keep his mind focused on his task at hand, at the conversation he needed to have with Raph, rather than replaying that kiss with Feronia in his mind for the thousandth time.  Did she have to physically taste so sweet?  And every little noise she had made… he barely managed to hold back the audible groan at the memory. 

Leonardo wanted her, in every sense of the word.  And yet a part of him was reluctant to pursue anything deeper.  Well, anything more physical, anyway.  Glancing down at one, three-fingered hand, thoughts weighed heavy on his mind as opened  and closed his fist over and over.  These hands… Shit, these hands were the hands of a mutant.  And he and his brothers were stronger than the mere bulk of their well earned musculature.  These hands…could hurt her.  And he refused to allow that to happen —

“Earth to Leo!”

His brother’s voice wrenched Leo from his thoughts with a start. 

“What’s up with ya, bro,” Raph grumbled at him as he pushed his green bulk off of his weight bench, snagging a towel hanging from a peg in the wall nearby and running the cloth over the sweat-slicked hide of his face.  “The great leader distracted?”

Leonardo could hear the sarcastic, mocking tone lacing Raph’s words.  He flicked his gaze up to the sai wielding ninja for a second, debating how much he wanted to divulge with his brother.  He and Raph, although as close as being brothers could make them, often times had a relationship rife with strain and tension.  Now, Leo believed he understood why.  Two leaders, even one who had yet to learn to curb his temper, would inevitably crash.

“I kissed Feronia,” he blurted out.

Raph froze for a beat, towel half covering his head.  Lowering the towel, Raph’s amber eyes studied him, and Leo could practically see his mind whirling behind his brother’s gaze.  A smile lit his face a second before Raph reached over and clapped him soundly on the shoulder.  “Yeah?  Well, it’s about damn time.”

“But it can’t happen again.”

“Well, that don’ make sense.  Why the hell not?  It’s obvious she is totally into you.  Hell, she is _tuned_ in to you, man.”

Needing to move, Leo pushed away from the wall and began to pace, prowling the length of Raph’s workout tunnel.  “She never saw anything outside of that lab she was raise in until we grabbed her, and then she spends every moment down in this damn lair.  Doesn’t she deserve a chance to find something…I don’t know, more normal?”

“Dude.  She’s got wings sprouting from her back.”

“I know but—”

“Jesus, Leo,” Raph bit off, lowering his height to sit on the padded bench of his weight machine.  “Guys like yous and me, when we look like _this,_ ” Raph grit out, sweeping a hand in front of him in a gesture encompassing his whole form, “and actually find someone who sees past it all…don’t waste it, Leo.  ‘Cause somethin’ like her is only gonna happen to us once in a lifetime.  And maybe not even that. Ha, I never thought I’d hear myself sayin’ this, but don’t fuck it up.”

Silence settled between them as Leo found himself nearly drilled by the intensity in Raph’s look.  There was a depth to Raphael that he rarely telegraphed to people, and Leo was seeing it blatantly now.

Leo had always had a sneaking suspicion that Raph held a torch for Feronia, that he wished the relationship he had with the winged human was more than seeing her as a little sister.  But his last words were like that verbal nod; his consent that there would be no interference beyond being the self appointed bodyguard he had made himself.

With a chuckle that eased the tension between the two of them, Raph rose to his feet once more.  “So what was this all important thing you needed?”

Ah yes, the _actual_ mission he came up here for.  Moving until he was toe to toe with his brother, Leo crossed his arms in front of his chest.  Just moving to stand before Raph in such a manner caused the muscled out mutant to react, his body language changing as if his brother was already gearing up for a fight.

“I need a second in command.  And I think that should be you.”

Raph blinked.   Then blinked again before dropping heavily back down to the padded bench.  “You’re shittin’ me.”

Leo shook his head.  “Nope.  Look, even though your actions with the purple ooze a couple years ago put April and Casey at risk, and you _lied_ to them to do it, you still showed initiative.  And since then, you’ve proven yourself to have potential.  With the four of us brothers being stretch so thin between keeping this city safe _and_ keeping Feronia safe, and now with Rocksteady and Bebop back?  I’m going to need someone who can make those pivotal calls out on the streets when we are divided into teams.  Or when one of us has to remain behind to make sure nothing and no one comes after Fer.  Donnie’s head is too practical.  Almost like he is emotionally detached from things sometimes, and that can be dangerous if tough decisions need to be made.  Mikey, well, you know how he is nearly _too_ emotional.”

Leo let his words sink in for a moment before continuing.  “You have a temper, but you have been learning to rein in it and use it like a weapon instead.  If you keep going down that track, then yeah, I think you should be my second in command.”  Reaching out and offering his hand, Leo waited.

Raph didn’t even hesitate.  With a single succinct nod, Raph rose to his feet and clapped his own hand to Leo’s forearm, and Leo gripped Raph in return.  “I won’t let you down with this.”

“I know.  Now before we head out to the farmhouse for a while, you and I have a meeting with Chief Vincent.  Need to clean up?”

But Raph was already striding toward the opening of his workout tunnel and leaping to the floor of the lair.  “Give me ten minutes, bro.”

Two hours later, Leonardo stood beside his brother, and now second in command, as they watched Chief Vincent descend the stairway from the roof of Police Headquarters and back into the depths of the building.  It was a long meeting, one that took up a bulk of the nighttime hours they would have needed to travel safely to the farmhouse.

“I don’ know if I like the idea of leavin’ dad behind.  Alone like that.  And I don’ like this _laying low_ business.”

Leo nodded gravely.  “I don’t either, but dad was rather insistent.  Besides, we have to remember that he trained us.  He is the master who gave us our skills.  And Donnie has the new lair rigged to capacity with motion sensors and alarms that he assured me would trigger a warning on some doodad of his strapped to his arm.”

Raph snorted.  “Donnie and his doodads.”  Sinking a brotherly punch into the leader’s arm, Raphael began making his way across the rooftop.  “Let’s get this last stuff finished for the police so we can get our asses to the farmhouse.  I’ll race ya.”

And with a challenging grin, Leonardo took off at a dead sprint after his already running brother.

***

            He couldn’t deny the excitement that thrummed to life within him as he and Raph rumbled their motorcycles up to the porch of the farmhouse three days later.  They should have just made it four days.  On the ride here, they had to practically break new speed records to try and get here before daylight was too bright for them to safely travel unseen on the roads. 

            Now, as he strode through the front door and into the farmhouse’s kitchen, ready for that beaming smile and the excitedly proclamation of his name, his brow furrowed and disappointment settled in as he moved into the living room only to find Mikey stretched out on the old, flowered couch watching the newest release of Captain America movies.  Feronia wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

            “Dude, where’s your girl?”  Raph’s voice sounded behind him a second before his bulked out brother shouldered past him in the doorway to move into the living-room, batting Mikey’s legs aside and dropping his bulk into the couch.  “Mikey!  You were supposed to wait for me!  We were going to choose which team to support as we saw it!”

            “ _Dude!_ ”  Mikey shot back, pointing toward his left arm tucked up into a sling.  “Wounded, over here.  I thought I totally deserved a sneak peak!  I’ll re-watch it with you, so chill, brah!”

            “Mikey, have you seen Fer?”  Leo querried.

            “Oh, my, gawd.  Fer and Donnie have been at it nonstop.  I can’t take it anymore!  They’re gonna drive me nuts!”

            Not sure what Mikey was implying, or if he was implying anything at all, Leo should the disturbing through that began to surface from his mind.  Fer and Donatello wouldn’t have anything going on, would they?  Not after she kissed him back the way she did…

            “Just point me in the right direction, Mikey.”

            As the youngest brother pushed a few buttons on a remote for what Leo first then recognized as a new flat screen TV sitting in the living-room,  probably courtesy of April, Mikey waved a hand in the general direction of the back door of the house, already absorbed into the move with Raph.

            Shaking his head, Leo made his way through the living room and slipped out the back door.  The back door opened to a small set of stairs that lead to a half acre stretch of lawn completely bracketing by the trees of the forest the farmhouse sat nestled in.

            “Fer!  Watch your balance!”

            “I’m trying!”

            “No, no…you’re tipping over already…”

            Leo froze as he glanced up into the yard just in time to see Feronia and Donatello crumple to the carpet of grass in a tangled heap.  Pushing herself up within the hold of Donnie’s arms, the winged woman thumped a fist against his brother’s plastron protected chest. 

“I just don’t get why I can’t get this!  It shouldn’t be that hard.”

Flopping his arms out to either side, Donnie sighed dramatically.  “Well, it is going to take more than just holding your wings out to balance.  You are going to have to try and feel each muscle as it moves, learn where you have to draw strength from to pull your weight back into balance of the pivot point.”

A smile slowly spread over Leo’s face as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the back door as it swung closed silently behind him.  He berated himself for even letting Mikey’s unknowingly poor choice of words drive a spike of jealousy through him a few minutes ago.  Donnie and Fer had one of the most unique relationships between all of his brothers.  The two had become instant best friend’s mere days after she awoke for the first time in the lair.  But knowing these two, they had both been working at this task, whatever this task was, to a near obsessive point of focus.  No wonder Mikey was feeling crazy.  His youngest brother was probably also feeling a little left out due to his injury.

Pushing off of the door, Leo hopped down the three wood steps in one small leap.  “What are you trying to do?”

With a gasp, Donnie grabbed Fer and practically dumped her off of him in an unceremonious heap as the lanky turtle scrambled to his feet.  “Leo!  I was just, it isn’t what it looks like…I mean we were just trying to…I was helping Fer learn how to balance herself since she is so determined to fly.”

God, he loved his brother.   Feeling his smile widen, Leonardo clapped Donatello on the shoulder as he strode up.  “Breathe, man.” 

“I sometimes hate wings!”  Feronia’s voice grumbled from the ground, and both brothers glanced down to see the winged human lever herself off the ground enough to slide the wing that was being pinned beneath her out and rise to her feet.   Brushing aside the tangled curtain of long, black curls that was currently obscuring her vision, Leo watched her entire form freeze as she finally caught sight of him.

Those silver eyes widened, and then that beaming grin he so longed to see lit her features and he swore the sun seemed dull in comparison.  With a squeal, she launched herself bodily at him, throwing her arms around his neck as she jumped up to give him the greatest welcome a man could get.  “You’re here!”

A laugh bursting from his chest, he caught her around the waist with an arm. 

“Uh, maybe I should go check on Mikey.”  Donnie stated beside them.

“No, Donnie, don’t go yet!” 

And suddenly Leo had an armful of squirming woman as Feronia reared back, pushing herself back out of his hold.  As soon as her bare feet hit the grass, she was grabbing Donatello’s hand and dragging him back to the middle of the yard.  “Let’s show him!  Leo, I swear I held my balance longer this time.”

But with his leader’s arrival, Donatello seemed reluctant to be as open as he was with Fer only moments ago.  There was no way Donnie would know Leo had kissed Fer yet, unless the winged beauty had shared that information with him herself.  Though Leo wasn’t sure how well he had been keeping his interest in Fer hidden, and the genius of a brother could probably easily put two and two together and wish to be obvious he didn’t want to step in on Leo’s turf.

But even Donatello had a hard time denying Feronia’s eager excitement.  With a sigh, the tech-loving mutant relented, moving to take his position near the middle of the yard.  “Alright, Fer, but then I am enforcing a break.  You have been at this for hours.”

Nodding, Feronia backed up until she was practically on the very edge of the forest-enclosed back yard.  With a ruffle of feathers, she shook out her wings as she bounced on the balls of her feet a few times.  Then crouching low, she took off, sprinting at Donatello. 

When she reached him, Donnie gripped her waist and used her momentum to heft her into the air and hold her above his head at arm’s length.   Arms and wings snapping out, Leo watched as Feronia tried to hold a position held high above Donatello, back arched gracefully, legs held straight.  His eyes skittered along the lean lines of her body, seeing the definition of strong yet lean muscle she had built over her time while living with them and training with their father.  It looked damn impressive, and Leonardo began believing that she might very well figure out how to achieve flight. 

“Fer…”  Donatello grit out in warning as Feronia’s left wingtip dipped a fraction too far, the weight of the straightened aviary limb easily beginning to tip them both sideways.

“I know, I know!” 

She tried to coax her point of balance back by dipping her right wing down, and Leo instantly saw when she overcorrected.  And just like that, both human and mutant turtle were toppling to the ground.

Leonardo instantly saw one other problem in Feronia’s pursuit.  Donatello instinctively moved Fer close to him as soon as they both began to tip over, bringing her body to his so his shell-protected back took the brunt of the impact with the unrelenting ground.  His brother was a protector at heart, and wouldn’t easily let Feronia fall by herself.  But his over cautiousness was hindering Fer’s ability to learn her balance as much as it was keeping her bruise free.

With a defeated groan, Fer’s head plunked down against Donatello’s chest.  “Why is it so hard to get this?”  Pushing up off of his brother, Feronia picked herself off of the mutant turtle that had cushioned her fall, brushing a few blades of grass off her jeans as she made her way over to him.

Leonardo couldn’t help it.  He was addicted to Feronia’s closeness.  Looping an arm across her shoulders as she drew near, he caught her gaze with his, his younger brother already disappearing into the farmhouse.  “So that is what you have been doing the last few days?  Working with Donnie on figuring out how to fly?  I thought you would explore every corner of this property.”

            “Oh I have.  Did you know there is a pond behind the barn?  And come, Leo!  You must see the new bathroom Donnie and I remodeled.”

            “Wait, you altered April’s house?”  Leo demanded.

            With an answering smile, she slipped out from under his arm and tucked her small hand into his, tugging him toward the house.  “Only after she told Donnie to fix up whatever he wished.  She made a trip to a hardware store and lumber yard, even.  We had this whole dumpster full of old plaster and wood slats.  Didn’t you notice that there isn’t a mud room anymore?”

            In fact, he had been so focused on finding his girl that he never noticed the changes to the farmhouse as he had navigate through the kitchen.  So he let himself be tugged back through the backdoor of the farmhouse, past his brothers as now all three of them lounged on the furniture with their focus on the new wide screen TV as Captain America attempted to pummel Iron Man, and into the kitchen.  Stepping into the kitchen from the living room, a pantry opened to the left, and shortly past the panty was the door to the bathroom. 

With a flourish, Feronia flung open the old oak door.  “Tada!” 

Leaning in, Leo took in the change.  What had been a practically a closet with a tub, toilet, and sink all crammed into the small space was now an open space.  The wall connecting to the mudroom had been knocked out, expanding the space.  And Donnie had tiled everything behind two frosted glass shower doors for a complete walk-in shower.  It was smaller than the bathing tunnel at the lab,  but the bathroom as it had been would never have been able to fit their shelled forms or the bulk of Feronia’s wings.

“And then watch this!  This was my idea,” Feronia proudly state.  Stepping into the bathroom, she slid the frosted glass door open and flipped a lever.  Nozzles along the ceiling burst forth with water, creating a literal rain inside the newly tiled area.  With another flick of her wrist, a showerhead attached to a hose turned on.  “See?  So you guys can get under that shell.”

“I have to admit, this is pretty damn cool.  I can see how April would approve of such improvements to this place.”

As Feronia turned the water off and moved back into the kitchen, shyness seemed to suddenly emanate from her as she turned to him, nibbling her bottom lip with her teeth.  Reaching out, he ran his thumb over that full lower lip, easing the flesh out from the grip of her teeth.  “What’s wrong?”

Silver eyes cast a sidelong look toward the open doorway to the living room and the sounds of battle emanating from the movie.  Flicking a wing around and holding it up, she blocked the view in the same breath as she stepped forward and stood up on the tips of her toes.  Suddenly Leonardo had Feronia’s soft lips pressed to his, and with a groan, one arm was around her waist and hauling her up against him before his brain even registered the movement.  Tipping his head a bit, he easily took command of her kiss.  With one insistent swipe of his tongue, she assented to him, and he swept into the warm recess of her mouth.  Something primal in him reveled at her submission to his demands.

Reflexively, his arm about her waist tightened, and Feronia gasped.

That small sound cut a swath through the sudden lust overriding his mind, and he backed away from her, lungs heaving to catch his breath, heart hammering against his ribs. 

Damnit, he almost hurt her. 

***

            Ugg, she should not have kissed Leonardo.  In the days between their first ride out to the farmhouse, the same night he had kissed her so passionately, so possessively, in the living room, and when he and his brothers moved into the farmhouse with her in an extended leave from the city of New York as a plan devised by the Police Chief, all Feronia could think about was Leonardo’s lips on hers.  The way her entire body seemed to come alive from his nearness.  The delicious shudder that had trembled through her when that slick, textured tongue of his slipped past her lips to claim her mouth in a decadent assault.  And she had wanted to see if those reactions to him would happen again.  Feronia wanted more.

            So what had she done?  With his brothers in the very next room, she had thrown herself at him, dragging him down for a kiss.  And her body sang for him, just as it did the first time.  Only this time, all that overwhelming awareness as her body came alive like fire took to dry grass was so strong she gasped at the wonderful suddenness of it.  And Leonardo had practically dropped her like a hot potato.

            Over the next several weeks, Leonardo confused her as he kept a respectable distance, yet wanted to spend more time with her.  They took walks through the woods, explored the barn, talked about the old tractor sitting inside and what it would take to get the old machine running again. 

            And there were times Feronia would turn and catch him watching her, those eyes of cobalt blue burning with such intensity, such heat, that she felt consumed by that look alone. 

            So why wouldn’t he touch her beyond a subtle brush from a hand?  Was it because his brothers were around?  Is that why he was reluctant to kiss her again?  A sudden, horrifying thought sprang up in the depths of her mind.  Was she not good at it?  So bad at the art of kissing that he was reluctant to try again?

            Yet three nights ago, he urged her to follow him out to the pond in the dusky light of evening.  Quietly lamenting over Leonardo’s actions after kissing her, she had followed along silently until she realized the six feet of muscled turtle was wading out into the waters of the pond.

            “Leo?  What are you doing?”

            Only a few feet from shore, he turned back to her and held out a hand.  Curiously she placed her palm in his, loving the feel of his battle roughed skin rasping over the smooth skin of her own hand.  Until, with one solid tug of his arm, she was drawn to his side with a splash. 

            “I’ve had this idea bouncing around in my head the last few days,” he began as he drew her to the center of the pond, the water rising to nearly the bottom of her breasts before he halted their progress.  “I think it might help you with your efforts to fly.”

            And just like that, she suddenly could care less about the cold water lapping around her or the questionably icky feeling base of the pond at her feet. 

            He halted their progress near the center of the pond.  Although shallow, the water still lapped coolly around her ribs, just below her breasts.  And that was Feronia also discovered that her wings, when completely soaked, were a hazard.  They were normally a weighted mass she was long since used to, but waterlogged limbs of muscle and feather were such an intense burden she felt she was about to be dragged beneath the surface of the water if her feet so much as slipped on the murky bottom of the pond.

            “We are going to work on lifts,” Leonardo stated as she tugged her around to face him.  “The same thing you do with Donnie, but my brother was reluctant to let you connect bodily with the ground.  So he constantly overcompensated as you fell.  Here?”  He gestured out to the water lapping around them with a sweep of one muscled, green arm.  “If you fall, I’m not going to catch you.  We are deep enough the water should break your fall, and yet shallow enough you won’t risk not being able to break the surface.  Think you want to give it a go?”

            Feronia laughed with delight as she glanced around them.  “Leo, you already dragged me to the middle of the pond.  Isn’t it a little late to ask me now if I want to try?  But yes, let’s do this.”

            As two warm hands circled her waist, Feronia realized she was in trouble.  The water made her clothes cling to her body like a second skin, and Leonardo’s touch was like a heated brand.  Her heart began to hammer against her ribs, and she could tell her breathing picked up.  As his cobalt blue gaze pinned hers, she realize how much more intense he looked like in the semi darkness, the sky darkening with the oncoming night and a full moon rising above the trees behind him.  He looked cast in shadow, a deadly ninja warrior in his element, moonlight turning his intense gaze to a lethal gleam. 

            Leonardo crouched at the knees, and then straightened to his full height, the hands around her waist gripping tight as he lifted her along with him, and she found herself rising up over his head.  And promptly continued to arch over him, falling head first into the water.  Feronia came up sputtering, black curls a soaked mass hanging over her face and blocking all vision.  With a curse, she pushed the wet strands off her face, only to catch sight of Leonardo, shoulders quaking as he seemed barely able to rein his sudden bout of laugher in.

            “I’m sorry to laugh, Sweetheart, but you look like a drowned rat,” Leonardo chuckled, holding out a hand to draw her toward him once more. 

            “Just lift me again,” Feronia grumbled at the green hulk of a man.

            It took them several more times before she managed to hold a form as he lifted her high over his head, water raining off her body down around him.  Wings waterlogged and feeling twice as heavy shuddered under the extra burden, but she turned that to her advantage.  She used that added sensation of weight to make herself stronger, to build strength where muscles needed it. 

            For several nights in a row, Leonardo took her to the pond.  And every night they stood beneath the moonlight and stars, so close all the warrior had to do was grab her and kiss her and she could be his.  She would willingly be his.  Yet every night, aside from a few caresses, he kept anything physical beyond their training at bay.

            What would she have to do to make Leonardo realize that she wanted him?  That she was his, and only his?

            But she was learning to hold a strong form, anchored at the waist by a sure grip, wings spread to their fullest expanse.  Most times she held her arms out like her wings to help maintain balance, though how her arms would affect actual flight, she did not yet know.  Her legs and back were held in a perfect bow, and it was a hold she could achieve for twenty minutes or more if she wished.

            In the middle of a pose held high above Leonardo’s head now, she was concentrating on maintaining her balance until she heard his voice.  “Let’s head back, Fer…we have been at this for several hours tonight already.”

            Bringing her arms forward and tucking her wings tight to her back, she merely ducked her head down and shifted her weight to tip her forward, diving into the water. 

            She was both excited and nervous about tomorrow.  With Mikey’s arm now fully healed, Donatello and Michelangelo wished to return to the lair for a few nights.  None of the brothers liked leaving their father alone for so many days, and Feronia couldn’t blame them after hearing the story of how their previous home had been demolished by those that wished them harm.

            Tomorrow night, Raphael and his two other brothers were heading back to the lair in New York City.  Tomorrow night, it would just be Feronia and Leonardo at the farmhouse.  Her pulse kicked up a notch just thinking about that fact.  But he had yet to kiss her since she assaulted him in the kitchen, now almost a week ago.

            How did one go about seducing a lethally trained mutant ninja? 

            Tomorrow…tomorrow was also the day she was going to attempt her first flight.

***

            This was a terrible plan, Leonardo grumbled to himself as he stood nearly fifty yards away from the towering column of cement that rose sixty feet into the sky.  Once used to house haylage or corn silage, the now empty silo stood as a towering reminder of a farm once in its prime.  Two such silos stood side by side, and atop one, was the lone winged figure of the woman Leo was falling helplessly in love with.  She was amazing, and determined, and so eager to push herself to new limits.  And during the past few nights, it had taken an incredible amount of willpower to keep himself from hauling her gorgeous, wet form up against himself as they trained in the pond.  Until he could ensure that he would not hurt her in any way when the passion between them seemed to erupt, as it was determined to do from nearly the barest of touches, he would keep her at arm’s length.

            He was also trying not to think about the next few days.  His three brothers decided they wanted to return to the lair, check in on Splinter for a little while.  And they all seemed rather eager to get away from the farmhouse for a while too.  Donatello was quite obviously going stir crazy without his lab.  And April’s bank account could only fund so much remodeling on the old farmhouse.  Raphael was taking his new role as second in command very seriously, much to Leonardo’s great approval, and with Donatello returning to the lab, Raph wanted to make sure he and Donnie combed over every failsafe the tech-obsessed turtle had installed in the lair was still active and in top shape.  Mikey was missing his video games desperately, and planned on bringing one of his gaming systems back out to the farmhouse with him.

            The radio attached to his right shoulder strap crackled a second before he heard Feronia’s voice come through the receiver.  “Alright guys, I have this blutooth thingy turned on, I think.  Are you hearing me?”

            “Loud and clear, Feronia,” Donatello’s voice assured her.  “Now I configured your ear set to work with all of our radios.   How are you doing up there?”

            Leo could hear his girl’s elevated breathing over the headset. 

            “It’s windier than I thought it would be.”  She gave a nervous chuckle, and then he saw her shake her wings out.

            The plan was simple.  He and his brothers were spread out in a single line from the silo.  Raphael stood at the very base of it, and Michelangelo and Donatello stood at equal intervals further from the silo, with himself standing the furthest away. 

            “Okay, I’m ready.  Here I go…”

            Leonardo wasn’t sure what to expect. 

            But he watched, heart in his throat, as Feronia snapped her wings out, and hopped off the silo.  With a startled screech he didn’t need the radio receiver to hear, she merely plummeted…right into Raph’s waiting arms.

            In that second, he could have kissed his sai loving, temper ridden brother.

            “That’s it,” Leonardo growled into his radio as he began to stalk forward.  “I’m stopping this right now before you get hurt.”

            “No!  I can do this!  I know I can!”

            And before he could take another stride closer to the silo, Feronia was scrambling out of Raph’s arms and sprinting around the silo, already climbing the long ladder that was built into the side of the tower.

            “Feronia…”

            “What is that saying?  Rome wasn’t built in a day?”

            “Hey, Anglecakes!  You got a saying right!”

            “I’m rather proud of her myself, if I must say so.”

            “Why, thank you, Donnie!”  Fer replied as she climbed the ladder.

            “Alright, you knuckleheads, just let the girl concentrate, will ya?”

            So Leonardo returned to his post, and braced himself as Feronia tried hopping off of the sixty foot silo only to plummet to the ground like a boulder, all flailing limbs and wings.  Over and over, the winged woman would trot around the circumference of the storage silo, climb the ladder, and try to figure out how to gain flight.

            He could see her body growing tired in the way her wing-tips tended to drag along the ground as she returned to climb the ladder yet again.  She was at the top yet again, when Leonardo finally put his foot down, instilling his voice with an edge of command.  “This is the last try for today, Fer.”

            “Okay, okay,” came her immediate reply.  “Last time, I promise.”

            Even from his distance, he saw that she was changing something.  She was standing at the very edge she could of the domed top of the silo, crouching down as if she was gathering strength.  His heart flew in his throat as she took off across the silo top at a dead run.  And dove.  Fucking dove off of the silo – a full on swan dive into nothing but thin air, wings tucked tight against her back. 

            His shout of alarm caught in his throat as he began sprinting, hoping like crazy his brother would be able to catch her with such a stunt.

            Like a streak of black feathers and raven hair streaming behind her, she plummeted like a bullet toward the ground.  Mere feet above Raphael, black feathered wings snapped out, and Leonardo watched as every muscle in her body locked tight, pulling the line of her dive into the arching grace of the hold she had practiced for weeks to hold while he or Donnie had held her aloft in the hair. 

            Those wings caught the air, and she lined out, shooting past above them like a shot, the _woosh_ of wind on wings loud in the farmyard.

            Dimly, he was aware of Raphael hollering a gleeful shout, but his eyes were only on her.  While she had managed to catch wind beneath her wings, she was still angling toward the ground, and fast. 

            And then she hit, rolling and tumbling over and over as her momentum carried her in a long, tumbling slide, a cloud of dust billowing up around her as she skidded along the ground.

            He broke into a sprint, fear of busted limbs and other more serious injuries leaping to the forefront of his mind.    In seconds, but what felt like ages, he was dropping to his knees in a slide, skidding to a halt beside her.

            Feronia was groaning as she moved, extricating her tangled wings.  But in between each groan, laughter reached his ears.

            “Ow…did you see me, Leo!  Oh, ooooww… I was flying!”  Feronia ended on a breathless note as she managed to get to her knees before him with his help.

            Elation was emanating from every ounce of her as she looked up at him with the biggest smile on her face, even as a gash above her right eyebrow seeped blood in a slow trickle down her face, and the arch of her left aviary limb was now bare of a few indigo hinted black feathers.  

            Her elation was nearly overcoming his concern.  Keeping an iron hold on his focus, he gripped her dust covered face between his two large hands, her pale skin such a contrast to the dark green tones of his.  “Are you hurt anywhere?”

            She shook her head.  “I don’t think so.”

            Now that he could keep himself from a total panic, he couldn’t help but beam a smile back at her.  “Baby, you were flying.”

            “I was flying!”

            “Ferbear!  You were flying!”  Mikey’s voice broke into their little celebration as his brother also slid in on his knees.

            Donatello approached, his head already lost in thoughts as his brother crunching numbers.  “I actually didn’t think it was totally possible, but there was a slight chance Feronia could achieve flight.  This is a time when I am glad I was a little wrong! Well done.”

            Raph, the last to arrive, came barreling in at a dead run, sweeping Fer up off her knees an whirling her around in a circle.  “I told ya you could do anything!”

            Even though she was laughing, Leo could see the grimace on her face.  “Put her down, you brute.  Let’s make sure Feronia is in one piece before we toss her around.”

            His words sinking in, his red-bandana wearing brother set Feronia back on her feet, and as Donatello began directing her back to the farmhouse, the two already having their heads together as they prattled on about what she did that seemed to work, and what she could do to improve.

            For a moment, thoughts of a week at the farmhouse with just himself and Fer were not at the forefront of his mind.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note - This is the completed Chapter Ten. I was originally going to have it lead into NSFW adult content, but had I stayed with that plan, this chapter would have been 40 pages long or longer in my word document. Though once I post them on here, they don’t seem so long. Ah well. So…steaminess shall ensue very soon, I promise!
> 
> Also, I am not sure why some of my paragraph tab indents work an some don't when copy and paste it over. I am working on trying to riddle that one out.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven**

            After  Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo geared up to make the trip back into New York City shortly after daybreak in April’s news van to stay for several days at the lair, Feronia was determined to figure out flying.  Late last night, Leonardo headed back to the city before his brothers, because deep down, he also worried about his father staying alone in the lair.  Promising he would return the very next night when he had the cover of darkness to keep his appearance from the eyes of others, Feronia found herself at the farmhouse alone for the day. 

And without the four brothers around to monitor her attempts at flight, she now stood at the precipice of the forage silo sixty feet in the air, looking down at the ground where no safety net of Raphael’s arms would ensure her survival.  Yesterday, she successfully figured out how to turn a downward dive into a glide.  An incredibly fast and terrifying glide, but a glide nonetheless.  Pumping her wings several times to make sure they felt limber and ready, Feronia steeled her nerve, and backed up until she was out of room on the domed silo like yesterday.  Oooh, Leonardo would probably scold her left and right for what she was about to attempt.  But she couldn’t depend on the brothers to be there for her forever, and she was determined to be independent with her flying.

So, she took off running, diving headfirst off of the silo, the ground rushing up to meet her alarmingly fast.  Whatever instinct made her snap out her wings a second before it would be too late and she would be nothing but a broken pile of pain on the ground kicked in, and she felt the shock rocket through her body as the planes of her outstretched wings caught the wind.  It felt as if the underside of her wings slammed against a solid surface rather than nothing but air.  And like yesterday, the force ricocheted through every inch of her body as bone, muscle, and sinew strained under the force.  But she willed her body into the form she practiced with Donnie and Leo, and her downward dive lined out into a swoop, the gravel yard of the farm whizzing by at a dizzying speed. 

Wind whistled over her black, indigo laced feathers, loud to her own ears, and already she could feel herself losing altitude with the glide.  But she was afraid to move her wings, worry about doing something to cause her to plummet keeping her wings locked tight.  And yet she had done the same thing yesterday, eventually barreling into the ground in a jarring slam, tumbling end over end until she was sure something in her was going to snap.

The reminder of _that_ particular experience spurred her into action as, terrified, she lowered her arms from a superman pose and gave a pump of her wings. 

She lifted away from the ground.  Elation skyrocketed, and she tried the same move again, gaining more distance from the hard and unrelenting earth.  Glancing up, her heart flew into her throat.  The tree line of the woods surrounding the farmhouse was far too close for comfort. 

Instinct overriding all, her right wing dipped down after another, stronger, pump of wings, and her body began to turn, banking in the direction of that dipped wing.  She couldn’t help the huge smile she felt break over her face.  “Woohooo!” Feronia shouted in triumph as she turned her flight even more.  With a few subtle pumps of her wings she was quickly learning would maintain her current altitude, she soared ten or twelve feet above the ground. 

But now the silo and the barn were directly in her path.  Consciously dipping her right wing, she began a huge arcing turn again.

After several such circles of the expansive farmyard, soaring over the gravel pad and lush green grass of the yards, Feronia quickly discovered a problem.  _How the fuck was she supposed to land?_   Apparently keeping her body in the air was not as hard as she once feared.  Landing on the other hand?  Now that was a completely new and different problem.  And she couldn’t keep soaring around the farmyard forever…she would eventually tire out and have to land, regardless. 

Heaving a bracing sigh, she knew it was now or never.  So, with a little tilt of her wings, angling the back blade of them down, she could slow her speed, but that meant her altitude diminished, the ground coming alarmingly close.  With a startled grunt, her booted toes were suddenly dragging along the grass of the front yard surrounding the gravel drive way that expanded into the pad for the operation of large machinery, and she slammed belly first into the ground, throwing her arms up just in time around her head in desperation.

Air whooshed painfully from her lungs, and for a moment, Feronia truly thought she was broken as her chest seemed to squeeze even tighter.  Spots swam through her vision, and blackness threatened to take her mind under.  This was it…Leonardo would come back to her dead, broken body lying here in the middle of the farm. 

Then all at once her lungs seemed to open, and blessedly unhindered air rushed in with a loud inhale.  Chest heaving, groaning from newly acquired aches and pains as she pushed to her knees, Feronia fought to catch her breath.  Whatever that experience was, she could gladly never experience it again.

On her hands and knees in the grass, she looked up and eyed the silo at the end of the farmyard, sitting nestled up to the two story red barn.  Gritting her teeth, Feronia gained her feet, and determinedly marched over to the silo and the ladder that would take her to the top.

She.  Would.  Conquer this.

Several hours and many new bruises and abrasions later, she managed to lower her altitude and get her legs under her, successfully sticking a landing.  Well, more like a hit-the-ground-running kind of landing, and one that sent her running headlong into the barn wall beside the silo to bounce off like a damn bouncing ball, landing back on her ass in the dirt and grass.  But, it was a landing nonetheless.

Glancing at the sky, Feronia winced.  The course of time had completely swept past her, and the sun was now a blazing orange ball hanging in the western sky just above the trees.   Dark clouds roiled to the south. Every muscle in her body seemed to ache…perhaps she would try to finesse her landings tomorrow. 

With a groan, she pushed herself up from the ground, all the aches and pains that were being suppressed by the flood of adrenaline making themselves well known.  Perhaps in a couple days, she would try again.

In fact, one pain was skyrocketing through her left hand.  Glancing down, she gasped.  Her pinky lied at an unnatural angle.  Great.  Limping toward the house, she only  had a couple hours at best to try and get herself cleaned up before Leonardo roared down the driveway on his custom motorcycle.

And two yours later when Leonardo strode through the front door only to freeze in his tracks, it was because since she limped her way to the farmhouse, she had yet to move out of the kitchen chair, holding one thawing pack of frozen vegetables after another to a bruise on her cheek and to her hand.

“What the hell, Feronia!”  Leonardo burst out as he stormed across the kitchen in two great strides, easing the current thawing package of peas from her face.  “What happened?”

She lifted one shoulder as if it were all no big deal.  “I worked on my flying.”

“ _With no one here?!?_ ”

Feronia winced.  Oh yeah, Leonardo was pissed.

“Yes, with no one here.  And guess what?  I stuck a landing!  Granted, I ran into the side of the barn as a result, but my feet were still on the ground.”

A muscle leapt in his jaw and those azure eyes of his turned almost lethally cutting.  “Feronia—”

She sighed.  “Oh, Leo, don’t _Feronia_ me.  I can’t always rely on you or your brothers to be around all the time.  I need to be able to fend for myself at some point.”

“You still shouldn’t pull these stunts without anyone around.  Not while you’re learning, Sweetheart.  What if you had gotten fucking injured bad enough to be in serious trouble?  I could have found you dead or dying instead of bruised and banged up.”

Lowering to his haunches beside her, she could see the worry on his face, the true terror of that notion glimmering in the depths of his eyes.  Guilt slammed through her; Leo was right in this.  She had been overly reckless doing it all by herself.  Feronia was just worried he would have tried to stop her.  Not out of malice, but that overprotective streak of his would have risen to the forefront.  And all this towering hunk of a ninja would have had to do was harden his voice and tell her _no_ , and she would have caved.  Had any of his brothers tried the same tone of voice, she knew without a doubt she would have laughed their efforts away.  But Leonardo…now he had a power over her unlike anything she had ever experienced. 

And she liked it.

His gaze skittered over her, from the wings drooping tiredly over the back of the kitchen chair she was sitting in, to the shoulders hunched under the weight of those big wings.  And she swore she could physically feel that gaze as if he had touched her with one of those big, three-fingered green hands.  “So, anything majorly hurting?”

Catching her bottom lip between her teeth, she finally brought her injured hand up from where she had it hiding in her lap, showing him the finger and its odd angle.  This time, as hard as she tried, she couldn’t keep the tears from welling up in her eyes.

“I think I did break myself.”

So gently, almost at odds with how hulking and strongly powerful as he looked, he took her wounded hand in both of his.  “Why don’t you count to three for me?”

Eyeing him warily, she tried to tug her hand back.  “Why?”

“Feronia, just do it.”

“One—ah!”

With one solid tug, he tanked on her poor finger.  It popped loudly, and just like that, the pain that had been growing steadily over the last couple hours vanished as if it had never been there.

“I thought you said three!”

He smirked at her as he massaged and stroked her sore hand.  “It was just dislocated.  I could tell right away.  Trust me, my brothers and I have dislocated these beasts,” he continued, holding one large green hand up before returning to his ministrations of stroking her fingers,” more times than I care to count.”

Rising to his feet, Leo moved to dig through the cabinet in the newly remodeled bathroom before returning with a role of medical tape.  “We’ll tape it to your ring finger, just to give it some support.”

Nodding, Feronia simply watched him place two loops of tape around her two fingers.  Once done, he seemed to pause, studying her hand closely, the pad of his thumb flicking over her knuckles. 

A steady rumble suddenly caught her attention, and she looked up, peering past his shell toward the open kitchen door.  “What’s that sound?”

He followed her gaze before answering.  “A thunderstorm is moving in.  Wait, have you never experienced a storm yet?”

She shook her head.

Smiling, he retrieved the half thawed bags of vegetables and returned them to the freezer.  “Let me go grab a blanket, and we will sit on the porch and watch the storm move in.  How does that sound?”

It sounded like bliss to Feronia.  Yet something about Leonardo was off.  When he had been holding her hand, something was bothering him and she couldn’t figure out what that might be.  Maybe she could ask him about it while they watched the storm?  She was definitely excited about her first experience with a thunderstorm.

“I’ll run down to the barn and grab a couple cans from Mikey’s stash of orange crush soda.”  With renewed energy and before the handsome, blue-eyed man could say otherwise, she was out of the door and jogging across the yard toward the barn.  The night sky seemed to be pitch black with not a single star winking down at her.  Even the energy in the air seemed to be super charged.

A dull ache that had been annoying her the last half hour before Leonardo’s arrival, somewhere in the vicinity of right wing near her back, was annoyingly refusing to go away.  Shaking out her wings, she pushed on, slipping through the man door of the barn and flicking on the lights, heading toward Mikey’s enormous stash of orange crush soda, courtesy of April’s generosity.

That damn ache was growing more persistent.  Brow furrowing, she stooped over to retrieve two cans of the soda from an open box when that ache skyrocketed into a stabbing pain so intense she cried out, falling to her knees.

And it was relentless; growing stronger and more intense.  Rising to her feet, she tried to force her wing out to stretch it, but the aviary limb refused to cooperate.  With another alarmed shout, she stumbled against the old tractor, the pain even forcing that one wing to hang down at an odd angle.

Tears streamed from her eyes as a huge boom cracked overhead, shaking the timbers of the barn as the pain in her back only intensified.

“Feronia?”

Leo’s deep baritone had her pushing away from the tractor to stumble out into the open expanse of the barn, falling to her knees.  He was at her side in seconds, hands under her arms bringing her to her feet.  “My wing…”

His eyes flicked over her form, the six feet mass of feathers hanging at an odd angle, and she cried out as the fist in her back tightened further.

With a curse, she found herself propelled toward one of the barn walls, almost roughly pushed up against the rough boards that made up the barn.  Before she could question what the hell he was doing, one large finger probed at a spot at her wing base where her right wing grew from the back of her shoulder.  She cried out at the intense stab of pain, struggling to push away from the wall.

He pushed her back.  “Stay still.  Feronia, pushing your body through hours of work with little water intake, which I doubt you stopped long enough to grab a glass of water, will cause cramped muscles.  Your wing base on the right is cramping.”

She was barely aware of the tugs at her shirt where the modified cloth was buttoned along her sides, and then the warmth of a large, three-fingered hand was sliding up the skin of her back, over the bottom modified strap of her bra, fingers pressing into the painful area. 

Again she pushed back at the white hot streak of pain, tears now cascading down her face. 

“Do not fight me.”  Leonardo clipped off.

And Feronia plunked her head forward against the barn wall, all thoughts of struggling against him whisked from her mind with that four worded command.

Leo’s hand worked at the painful area, and Feronia lost track of time, swimming in an odd sensation of his hand against her bare skin and the stark pain of the man working the tensely cramping muscle.  Outside, rain began to pelt down in torrential sheets to feed the earth, thunder booming in the sky above the barn. 

            Eventually though, he did manage to coax it into relaxing, her right wing sagging in relief.  He was silent behind her, a tense kind of silence, as his hand slipped out from under her black shirt.  Turning, she froze at the look burning in the depths of his eyes.  His shoulders rose and fell as his chest heaved like he had just been in an intense battle.  She had seen that look on his face before, the way his eyes devoured her.  It was after their first kiss.

            Leonardo _wanted_ her.

            Feronia knew this without a speck of doubt.  Reaching out a hand, her palm skimmed over the hardened planes of his plastron protected chest when suddenly he stepped back away with a curse, stalking out of the barn like she had pissed him off, the hulking form of his shelled back disappearing into the dark night and torrential rain.

            She stood there for several heartbeats, stunned.  Why?  She swore she could tell he wanted her, so why was leaving her preferable to stalking out into a raging thunderstorm?

            Anger rose, swift and sure.

            Turning, she darted out after him, gasping as rain pelted against her, quickly soaking her clothes.  A bolt of light arched through the sky, blinding her for a few seconds.  But she had briefly caught a glimpse of Leo.  He was half way to the farmhouse.

            Sprinting forward, she caught up to him, darting around him, slipping and sliding in the rapidly forming wet ground, stopping in her tracks to halt his momentum.  “No!”  Feronia shouted at him above the rain, uncaring that her hair now hung in soaked strands around her face as the rainfall around them seemed to increase.   A cracking boom of thunder overhead caused her to jump a second before an arc of lightning rent the sky.  In those few seconds of near blinding light, the lethally trained warrior looked glorious.  Green-hide glistening in the rain, blue eyes turning silver in the brief light of the storm, tall and towering, huge and hulking from the shell protecting his back, he looked every bit as dangerous as he was trained to be.

            Her heart began to hammer madly against her ribs.  “You don’t get to walk away from me this time.”  Another boom of thunder cracked overhead, and she started wondering if this was the appropriate spot to be confronting Leonardo, clearly in the grips of his own inner storm raging tumultuous in the glittering depths of his eyes as he looked down at her in silence.  There was no going back now.

            Feronia raised her right wing, the movement smooth and easy after Leonardo diligently worked the cramping muscle out mere moments ago.  The spread of the feathered appendage blocked some of the sheeting wind, and she peered up at him in the night storm.  “You kiss me, with all the passion I have ever read about, and then you act like it never happened.  I don’t understand what is holding you back…what you are so afraid of…”

            Whatever it was, the answer came to her like a bolt of lightning from the very storm they stood in.  All his worry about her injuring herself, his over protectiveness that had him keeping her down in the lair for those long months after she had been fully recovered, even the way he seemed to study the differences between them like when he had been holding her hand at the kitchen table earlier.  He was afraid of hurting her.

Reaching out, she gripped his wrist and stepped closer, bringing his hand up to press his palm against her heartbeat, just below her collar bone.  “Feel this?” she demanding, knowing the racing beat of her heart thudded against his palm.  “This is what _you_ do to me.  When you are merely around, when you walk into a room, when you look at me, when you touch me, _when you kiss me_.  It doesn’t happen around any of your brothers, or around Casey Jones.  _You_.”

“I could hurt you,” Leonardo growled, his words nearly lost to her amidst another rumble of thunder.

“I’m not made of glass! Why not just take what is yours?”

For a moment, they merely stared at each other as the storm raged on around them, matching the tempest brewing between them.  In a sudden bright flash of lightning, she could see the tick in his jaw, the tense set of his muscular shoulders.

The three-fingered hand she held against her heartbeat closed, fisting the material of her shirt.  With a firm tug, she found herself yanked to him as his free hand gripped the back of her neck, and his head swooped down to catch her mouth with his. 

Elation soared through her, greater than it had when she first managed to fly.

Clambering against him, she half climbed up his body.  The hand fisting her shirt let go, and he reached down to support her weight with one hand against her ass, and she wrapped her legs as best as she could around his hips, not quite able to link them around due to the hardness of the shell that ended at his lower back.  Never once did he break the kiss.

Shifting her wings as she wrapped her arms around his neck, she brought the aviary limbs up above them both, pressing them together as tightly as she could, creating a dome of soaked, black and indigo feathered wings against the torrents of rain that battered down against them.

Feeling a flick of his oddly textured tongue, she granted him access and his kiss turned demanding as he plundered the depths of her mouth.

  Dimly aware that she was moving, she didn’t realize he was walking across the yard toward the farmhouse with her clasped to him until he half stumbled his way up the three short steps of the front porch and her wingtips rasped against the roof of the porch.  Pressing her against the wall beside the door long enough to fumble blindly for the handle, in the next moment they were careening into the kitchen, bouncing against the walls of the mudroom and nearly slamming into the refrigerator.  Several magnets plunked to the floor, the sound lost in the rumble of the storm raging outside.

Breaking the kiss, Leo pinned her with the most blistering look she had ever received from the man a second before he reached up and fisted a hand in the wet locks of her hair, yanking her head none-too-gently to the side.  And then his mouth was against the side of her neck and Feronia could care less about the little sting of her scalp as she shuddered against him.  Lapping at the point where her pulse beat in her neck, the warmth of his tongue was at such odds with her rain-cooled skin that she actually cried out.

That had him rearing back, his gaze searching hers, worry glimmering in those cobalt depths.  She shook her head.  “You didn’t hurt me, Leo.”  Her voice sounded husky even to her own ears.  “Far from it.” 

Relief visibly slammed through him.  Seeming to rein himself in, Leo stepped back from pressing her against the refrigerator and walked her over to the kitchen table, setting her down on the sturdy oak. 

Shaking from a combination of Leonardo’s intense onslaught and feeling chilled from being soaked to the bone from the rain, Feronia felt vulnerable as he towered over her, standing between her knees, her jean-clad legs spread to accommodate the width of his powerful hips and the base of his shell.

As she looked up at him, a crack of thunder overhead so loud she actually jumped rattled the house a second before every light in the building winked out.  But in the flashes of lighting form outside, she caught glimpses of him, and that alone fanned the flames of her desire.

“Do you ever take that bandana off?”  She mused aloud.

Chuckling, he reached both hand up to the back of his head, and a moment later the blue sash was falling away.  Setting it aside in a little heap beside her, she never once took her eyes from him.  It wasn’t the first time she had seen the brothers without their preferred mask, but Leo seemed to constantly wear his.  Someday she would have to ask him about why he did so.

Right now though, he was stealing her breath away.  “Do you realize how handsome you look?”  Reaching out, she ran one hand up the defined muscles of one arm, feeling the textured ridges of his green hide, the scars from training and battle, the odd, brand-like scar where his shoulder began to curve toward his neck.

  “I’m a mutated turtle freak,” Leo returned.

Feronia swung a wing around and smacked him in the arm with it. 

Leo snorted.  “Point taken."  Leaning in, he propped himself up with one hand against the table, and claimed her lips again.  And like flame to gasoline, the fire between them erupted in seconds as she kissed him back with everything she had.

His battle-roughened hands seemed to be everywhere, in ghosting caresses up and down her arms, cupping her jaw to take further control of a kiss, tipping her head to the side to once again deliver a nearly stinging nip to that same sensitive spot of her neck that had her calling out before.  When she made a choked cry again, Leo’s attentions turned wholly demanding.

The buttons along either side of her shirt that kept the modified garment closed were popped with hasty precision, and the man-turtle was tugging the soaked cloth over her head and tossing it somewhere to the depths of the dark kitchen behind him.  Reaching around, he seemed to struggle with the clasp of the strand of her bra that ran beneath her wings, and with a little chuckle, she reached back and nudged his fingers aside, flicking the clasp of both straps open and shrugging the garment off. 

Instinct had her quickly covering herself with her arms, but a strong grip on each wrist drew her arms away.  “Never hide yourself from me,” Leo growled, his gaze steely.

Something deep in her belly quaked with awareness as she nodded.  And then he was kissing her again, the warmth of one strong, three-fingered hand cupping her breast.  With a sweep of his thumb over the pert nub of her nipple, her cry was swallowed by his fierce kiss.  She couldn’t help it…each caress of her breast caused her to shudder and moan, nerves sending arcs of sensation straight to the v of her thighs where an odd sensation of warmth seemed to be pooling there, making her squirm restlessly.

There couldn’t be anything more blissful than Leonardo’s attention to her breasts as he abandoned one to lay siege to the other, her back arching in delight as her body surged closer to him of its own volition.

Breaking their kiss, she sucked in a much needed breath of air, and then he dipped his head, his wide mouth settling over the peak of her left breast, and drawing on it.  In that instant, Feronia discovered she was very, very wrong.  This was much more blissful.

Soon rational thought was no longer within her capabilities as Leonardo continued to draw on one peeked breast before switching to the other, until he abandoned them to leave trailing kisses down her abdomen.

Squirming beneath his attentions, Feronia gripped his domed head as if it were her lifeline.  “Leo,” she panted. “I want to touch you too.”  She was rather proud she could form words at all in the moment, actually.

  Rising back to his full height, he seemed to take a step away from her.  For a moment, she feared he was going to distance himself again, but then her eyes flicked to his hands, tracking their movements as he worked at the buckle of the leather harness that held his twin katanas to the back of his shell, the weapons falling to the floor with a plunk.  He unwound the soaked wrappings wound around his forearms, and then those strong hands moved to the front of his black cargo pants, popping the top button straining against a sizeable bulge.  In a sudden break from the rolling thunder, the rasp of the zipper as he lowered it seemed loud in the kitchen.

And then he was stooping over, pushing his pants down his legs and stepping out of the restrictive garments.  But in the darkness of the storm ridden night, she couldn’t get a good look at him, and she was burning with curiosity. 

Standing back up, he stepped closer, capturing her eyes with his glittering gaze as he reached forward with one hand and snagged hold of hers, drawing her fingers forward.  And down.

Her fingers brushed against hardness, and then he was wrapping her hand around his shaft, closing his over her own fingers.  She swallowed as she stared back.  He felt alarmingly huge…even her thumb couldn’t meet up with her fingers as she circled his girth.  With a slow move, he pumped her hand up to what felt like a flared head, then back down to his base.  And just like the rest of him that seemed to be a perfect blend of man and turtle mutated together into one glorious creature, the same could be said of his body here.  Although what she felt seemed similar to descriptions in her books and the textbooks she studied, she was pretty sure human men didn’t have textures of hardened ridges encircling their shaft, more prominent near the head and diminishing to smooth flesh at the base.

Magnificent didn’t come close to describing him.

Just as slow, he guided her hand in another slow pump, her palm sliding over his body, and he broke into an audible groan.  Releasing her hand to leave her to keep the pace up herself, she explored his lower body with one hand while her other slid up the rain slicked expanse of his modified plastron, feeling his chest heave for breath, the pounding of his own heart against his ribs.

A heady sense of power infused her at the realization that she did this to him… that he reacted to her as strongly as she reacted to him.  Feeling bold, as her hand drew up over his flared tip, she tightened her fist and pumped her hand down quick, from tip to root and back.

Leonardo cursed.  Gripping her wrist with near bruising force, he pulled her hand away, and then two hands were around her waist and lifting her off the table.  With a startled exclamation, she found herself turned around and pushed forward as he lifted her, bending her over the edge of the kitchen table.  One hand settled against her spine between her wings, urging her to let them fall open as he pressed her down, coaxing her until she was lying against the coolness of the wood.

  “Leo?” she couldn’t help but voice, an unspoken question in that one spoken word.

For a moment, he paused, his hands stroking up and down her back between the expanse of her wings, caressing over the rise of her wing base and over the point where feathers began to grow from skin. “Do you trust me?”

With her right cheek pressed against the cool wood of the table, she nodded, before realizing that in the darkness of the kitchen he probably couldn’t see the movement.  “Yes,” she quickly assured him.

His caressing hands drifted up, massaging into her shoulders for a few moments before drifting down until he gripped each lower arm, lifting gently and drawing her arms back and over each wing as they draped beside her and hung off the table.  Before she realize what the man was doing, she found her arms behind her back, forearms drawn together and held by the warm, sure grip of a three-fingered hand.  With her arms in such a position, her elbows pointed toward each wing base, effectively keeping her from fully closing her wings.

Her breath ratcheted up along with her pulse as she stared at the crumpled heap of his discarded bandana on the table…until he reached over and plucked it up, wrapping it around her forearms and securing them snuggly.  A shiver coursed through her entire body from head to toe, and suddenly he was draping himself over her, caressing the side of her face as he looked into her eyes. 

“Are you okay?  Are you scared?  Think a moment before you answer me.”

So she did as he directed, forcing her sluggish mind to work.  The last time she had been bound like something similar was in NexGen labs.  But she wasn’t in that awful place. She was with Leonardo, his warmth cocooning her as he watched the gears whirl in her mind.  Swallowing, she knew her answer.  “No, not scared.”

A huge grin broke across his face.  Dropping a kiss to her nose, he rose back up and out of her sight.  Again the warm expanse of battle-roughed hands began to drift over her back and arms, up over her feathered wings in intimate caresses, and she found her senses heightened tenfold, aware of every subtle touch, every minute caress.

Then his touch drifted lower and around her hips, lifting her away from the edge of the table enough to work at the clasp of her jeans.  Pulse pounding, she felt her flesh exposed more and more as he tugged her pants and underwear over her hips and down her legs until they snagged on her booted feet.  If she thought she felt exposed before when she had first removed her bra…this...this was tenfold.  She felt exposed, vulnerable, and completely under his control.  When he stepped closer, over the jeans pooled at her feet, it spread her legs apart even more and she felt cool air against the heated flesh at her center.  Widening his stance, her legs were drawn open even more, and as it caused the pooled jeans at her ankles to grow taught, she suddenly realized how utterly in control he was.  Heat flooded her cheeks as she felt even more wetness gush between her thighs, and she was thankful for the sudden power outage.

All that existed was the storm growling and raging outside while the storm between the two of them raged onward within the kitchen as she felt his hands caress over her backside before one hand dipped lower to the slick heat between her legs.  Every cry from the sensations overriding her senses seemed to fuel him onward, and he stroked and caressed her in her most intimate place as he explored her body. 

As if they had a mind of their own, a tremor ran over her wings when one finger ghosted along something so sensitive he had to press a hand down between her shoulder blades. 

“Keep those wings open, Fer.”

God, why did an order from him cause her lower belly to quake so?  And she was blatantly aware of the new wetness that flowed at his touch.

But he repeated his questing action, and although she shouted out in shock to the darkness of the kitchen, she somehow managed to keep her shuddering wings where they lie.

One finger drifted back, and then was pushing into her, penetrating her body in slow increments at a time, gauging every shudder, every moan that wrenched from her throat before seeking further entrance.  Deep inside, there was a sharp stabbing pain, firefly brief, but it caused every muscle in her body to tighten.

“Shhh, Sweetheart.  I had to…It was something I read that might help a woman with her first time.”

And then his finger was withdrawing to be replaced by something far bigger, and for the first time since their tumultuous night began, worry wound through her.  Would she be able to take him?  What she felt in her hand of his body seemed humongous in the darkness.  Would it hurt, more so than his questing finger did?  “Leo,” she began, and even she could hear the uncertain note lacing her voice.

“I’ll go slowly.  I’ve got you.”

And she believed him as he seemed to press his hips forward, pushing his shaft into her center.  She felt the stretch as her body worked to accept him, and every time she couldn’t help but tense up, he halted his forward progress, waiting until he sensed her body relaxing around him. 

She was nothing but an ocean of sensation roiling and surging in a raging storm as he worked himself into her by little increments, a loud, long moan slipping past her lips as she felt one ridge after another slide past her opening.

He paused, his hands running over her ass, her hips, up over her back in sweeping, encouraging caresses.  “Can you take more, Fer?  I’m only half way…am I hurting you?”

The man expected her to think??  Swallowing, it took her three times before her tongue could form words.  “No.  I mean yes!  Ugg, I mean yes, then no.”

The manly chuckle behind her skittered over her nerve endings as he continued to press forward.  It seemed like an age of being swallowed by sensation, by the feeling of him filling her, stretching her body and coaxing it to accept more of him.  When she felt the press of his thighs against the back of hers, triumph soared through her.

And then she could think of nothing more than the feel of him retreating, the walls of her channel rippling along his ridged shaft, and then he slowly surged back in.  His next thrust into her was steadier, a little faster, until Leo adopted a smooth rhythm that rocked her to her very soul.  Each time his hips bumped up against her thighs, a wailing cry wrenched from her throat.  It was a cry wrung from the vices of passion and desire as he drove her body to even greater heights, his pace quickening until the smack of his flesh against hers was loud in the kitchen between the booms of thunder from the storm outside. 

There was nothing but Leonardo driving into her, pushing her along a precipice of sensation until she seemed to toe the very edge.  With one rather harsh thrust, he forced her over, and she plummeted into a sea of desire with an airy, wailing scream as her entire body seemed to lock tight, her heated center gripping his ridged shaft like a fist.  One hand pushed against her back between her shoulder blades, holding her down to the table as she quaked and shook beneath him.  Two more hard thrusts and a wrenched a scream from her throat, and he ground his hips against her with a fierce growl, warmth spreading deep inside her.

For a moment they stayed that way, she over the kitchen table, wings draped open, arms tied behind her back as he seemed to heave to catch his breath behind her, the thighs still pressing against hers shuddering.

Feronia drifted on a sea of euphoria, barely aware of Leonardo slipping his shaft from the heated depths of her body.

“I’ll be right back,” she heard him say, his voice muffled and distant as if he was a hundred yards away rather than in the same room.

The sensation of a cool, moist cloth against her sex barely registered as she became dimly aware that Leonardo was gently cleansing her body.  The blue bandana around her arms loosened and disappeared, her boots unlaced and her crumpled jeans tugged from her legs, and then strong hands were turning her over carefully, scooping up her boneless from and carrying her through the house.

Feronia buried into the warmth of his chest, placing a small kiss against one plastron protected pectoral, and Leo answered with a soft kiss pressed into her hair on the top of her head.  How he managed to carry her through the house and up the stairs, wings and all, she would be forever grateful because she didn’t think she could move even if her life depended on it.

He nudged open the door to her chosen bedroom with a knee, and settled her down into the center of the large mattress.  Blinking up at him, she tried to get her sluggish brain to work.

“Leo?”

“Shhhh,” he whispered against her ear as he lowered himself beside her, reaching up to punch one of the many pillows on her bed into position to support his neck.  Then drawing her to him, her front to his, one arm slid over her waist and under her wings, holding her close.  With the wing not tucked under her, she stretched it out and draped it over him, covering them both in a half blanket of living feathers.

***

 

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go, my lovelies. I'm off to go take a cold shower.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Chapter Twelve**

          

From one breath to the next, he went from sleep to fully awake.  Tense.  On alert.  Poised to take out a threat… _something_ was pinning him down.

            That _something_ puffed a warm breath of air against the hide of his neck, the feeling quickly followed by the soft rustle of feathers as the weight shifted.  Glancing down, Leonardo’s gaze alighted on the swath of indigo and black that blanketed his chest.

            _Feronia…_

            As the scent of her hair drifted up to him, he felt the tension bleed from his body as if it had never been there.  He was not used to waking up beside someone, and the blanketing weight of her wing and the soft breath of air along his neck had sent his warrior instincts into overdrive.  Shifting slightly, he sought out her features.

            Feronia was on her stomach across the bed, half sprawled across him in a tangle of arms and legs that was wholly endearing, and still deep in the welcoming arms of sleep.  He took a moment to study her beautiful features.  She looked so peaceful, her midnight black tresses of curly hair laying out in a tangle along his left arm as she pillowed her head on his shoulder.  Even in her sleep, she mumbled something unintelligible and snuggled closer, burrowing her face further into the crook of his neck.

            Snuggling her very naked body closer.

            Leo felt his own body respond.

            Smothering a low groan of need, he willed his body back under control.  Feronia wasn’t even _doing_ anything, merely seeking his warmth while she slept, and already lust was raging through his system.  Leonardo wanted to shift, roll her beneath him so he could pin her down…

            Guilt flooded him at that thought, damping the lust – the want – swimming through his veins.  Not entirely, but enough for him to clear his head.  With the strength of will alone, he dredged up every bit of training, every hint of the deadly ninja warrior within him…to extricate himself from under the winged woman’s sleeping form while not disturbing her.  It took all of his skill, and he even had to freeze stock still several times when she stirred in her sleep, the smooth skin of her brow furrowing before she slipped back into sleep, silent and calm once more.

            Eventually, he was able to slip out from under the warm expanse of her wing, indigo-hinted-black feathers ghosting over his textured hide with a slight rasp.  He waited a moment longer as he stood beside the large bed, simply drinking in her features, his eyes roaming over her form from wingtips to toes.  Fierce possessiveness rose within him, mingling with the urge to protect her from the harsh elements of a harsh world swirling with the guilt that still plagued him.

            It was that guilt that spurred him to cross the room on silent feet and slip unheard from the bedroom door, closing it softly behind him as he made his way down the stairs to the first floor of the old farm house.

            But when he walked through the doorway to the kitchen and his gaze flitted over the clothes strewn about the room, that guilt took the frontrunner of his emotions, and he cursed.  What the hell had he done?  How would she ever, _ever_ , forgive him?  And what kind of sick bastard was he to…to…

            Stomping forward, he began snatching up the discarded clothing lest his brothers make an early appearance at the farmhouse by arriving days earlier than their originally laid out plans.  His pants, lying in a crumpled heap, were swept up off the floor along with Feronia’s jeans…jeans he used to limit the movement of her legs.  Her shirt had somehow sailed on top of the refrigerator, and that was quickly snatched down while simultaneously making him aware that the top of the appliance greatly needed a good dusting.  Her bra, hanging rather delicately on the arching neck of the sink faucet, was snatched up and stuffed with the rest of the clothes before Leo stormed his way, naked, to the basement. 

            How could he do what he did?  To her??  It wasn’t right.  She deserved better treatment than what he gave her last night.  And as memories of last night floated up in his mind…

_Feronia bent over the kitchen table before him, the creamy expanse of silken skin almost gleaming in the darkness with every burst of lightning, wings shuddering as she listened to his order to keep them open…_

_Her moans as he caressed her, her cries as he sank into her…_

           With an angry curse, he reached the washing machine and stuffed the wad of clothing inside before adding detergent and starting the wash cycle.  And as he stood in the basement, the coolness of the room licking at his exposed hide, he became aware of his nakedness and he glanced down his body at himself.  Fuck…he was half hard from merely _thinking_ of her.  As if glaring at his erection would make it retreat, Leonardo stood there, realizing he really needed to bring along several sets of clothes if he was going to be spending more than a night at the farmhouse in the near future.  But should he even consider it?  Maybe it was safer for Feronia if he stayed away.

           That last thought instantly brought up a growling response in him.  No!  She was his.  His!  Even if he did feel guilty about last night.  Spotting a basket of clean and dry bathing towels nearby, he fished one out of the basket and slung it around his hips, securing it so it wouldn’t slip as he made his way back to the kitchen. 

           Leo felt the need to do something.  Maybe he should go train, let the burn of muscles and the calmness of meditation help ease his guilt.  But in a room above him slept a winged human who…who held his heart in the palm of her hand.  And she didn’t even know it yet.  With a huge sigh, he dragged one hand over the smooth dome of his head.   Feronia would awaken at some point, and would no doubt be hungry.  Leo knew _he_ was famished after last night.

           The need to care for Feronia overriding his itch to train away his problems, he moved his mutant ass to the refrigerator and yanked it open, peering inside as he tried to shove the detailed memories of last night that continued to try and plague him from his mind.  In short order, he retrieved the carton of fresh eggs, a package of bacon, and even found a bag of frozen hashbrowns in the freezer.  “Thank you, April,” Leo muttered to the emptiness of the kitchen as he dumped his findings on the counter beside the stove.  Shifting to open one cupboard after another or open one drawer after another, he hunted down the items he needed to scramble up the eggs and get the bacon frying.

           He was halfway through whipping up breakfast when he wondered if he should wake her up after all.  He didn’t want her to have a cold meal be the first thing that greeted her when she came down.

           “Leo?”

           The sound of her voice had him freezing solid a full heartbeat or two before he turned around.  And the sight of her, standing between the kitchen and the living room in nothing but the white sheet she clutched around herself, the sweep of her darkly feathered wings still a little droopy from sleep, and all that glorious midnight black hair tussled from a night of passion – passion in _his_ arms – hit him right in the gut.  All he could do was stare at her while bacon popped and sizzled behind him.

           She began to fidget under his intense perusal, and with a small hand, quickly swiped back a lock of curls that was teasing the edge of her vision before she moved into the kitchen and toward him.

           His breath began to come faster at her simple approach.

           “You are making breakfast?”  Feronia seemed to hedge, stating the obvious.

           Words were not going to come to him at the moment, so he merely nodded.

           A huge smile broke across her face and she beamed up at him, grey eyes sparkling with happiness.  “Oh good, I’m _starving._   But…I fear you are burning the bacon.”  Bopping him with a hip, she urged him aside and snatched the long forgotten spatula from his grasp.

           “Bacon, right,” he offered lamely as he stepped to the side.  He couldn’t seem to take his gaze away from her, not wanting to miss even the most minute nuance of her.  If last night was all he would ever have with her, he wanted to commit it to memory.  Commit this morning to memory, before she shunned him for his deplorable actions.

           Gray eyes flicked up to his before she returned her focus to the bacon sizzling in the pan.  “Why don’t you get the plates down—”

           “Did you just shove me away with a hip?”  Leo demanded, one eye ridge rising in query.

           The winged woman froze, spatula in mid-air as she was about to flip the cooking slices of meat before Leo reached over her head and snatched back the stolen utensil.

           “You get your pretty self over to a chair and just wait.  I’m cooking breakfast here, and let’s be honest.  When have you _ever_ witnessed _that_?”

            Laughter bubbled up from her, and she conceded her place before the stove, hands raised in surrender as she backed away and moved to the kitchen table.  “Very true.  By all means, cook away.”

            Silence filled the kitchen while he set about with efficiency.  Plates were retrieved; _non burned_ bacon was piled onto a plate along with a heap of scrambled eggs.  Toast popped up from the toaster and was quickly buttered, and hashbrowns filled up the rest of the plate.  When the plate plunked down before her, those gray eyes nearly bugged from her head as she took in the mounds of food.

            “I won’t be able to eat this all!”

            With a smirk, he swiped up his own fork, dragged a kitchen chair close enough their knees nearly touched, and stabbed up a fluffy forkful of scrambled eggs, popping them into his mouth.  “Less dishes to do,” he offered in answer to the question glittering in those gray eyes.

            “Fair enough,” Feronia returned with a laugh, diving into the breakfast with the eagerness of hunger.

            For a moment, they just ate in quiet companionship.  Either that or they didn’t know what to say to each other.  Leo noticed those gray eyes flick his way often, but her gaze would flit away just as fast.  There was so much he wanted to say to her, but where did he start?  And why was every moment between them overshadowed by this air of uncertainty?

            Eventually she leaned back, resting one dainty hand against her sheet covered stomach.  “I can’t eat any more, Leo,” she said with a satisfied sigh, pushing the rest of the filled plate across the table toward him.  “Feel free to finish it.”

            And so he did, diving in to the rest of the breakfast, quickly and efficiently.

            Getting to her feet, Feronia stretched the lines of her back, wings stretching out as much as she could in the expanse of the kitchen.  “I should really stretch my wings out.  But…” She glanced down at herself.  “I should probably go find some clothes before I head outside.”

            She hadn’t taken more than a step away from the table when something caught her eye.  “What’s this?”  Feronia mused, the winged human stooping over to retrieve something half hidden behind the corner of the refrigerator.

            “Hmm?”  Leo grunted in question, turning to see what she referred to, and froze.  He froze because there Feronia stood, shrouded in nothing but a sheet as she stared at the blue swath of his bandana.  Pink seemed to tinge her cheeks as she looked upon the garment, that blush spreading across her face and even on down her neck.

            Leonardo knew it wasn’t the garment itself causing Feronia such discomfort.  It was remembering what he had _done_ with it.  With a curse, he stood, moving to her side and retrieving his bandana.  “I tossed all our clothes into the washer.  I must have missed this one.  Look, Fer, I’m terribly sorry for last night.  What I did…”  A sigh gusted out of him as he struggled to find the words, the guilt over his actions rising to the surface in full force.

            The blush seemed to leech from her features as she paled, sinking back into the kitchen chair.  “You…you regret last night?”

            “What?  No!”  Sinking to his haunches before her, he grabbed one of her hands in his, their joined fingers resting in her lap.  A lap where the thickness of a mere sheet kept her from him…  “I could _never_ regret last night. “  His gaze flicked to the bandana that he was currently crushing in his free fist.  “Feronia, I regret my actions last night.”  And he raised the bandana up into her line of sight.  “I’m so sorry.  I shouldn’t have tied you up or pinned you down.  I—”

            Cocking her head to the side in that odd manner of hers that was all Feronia, her words interrupted him mid speech.  “Then why did you?”

            Well, they were doing this now, he supposed.  With another gusty sigh, he dragged his free hand still clutching that damn blue bandana over his head again as he sought for the right words.  “I just…I know my brothers and I, us mutants, are strong.  Stronger than the average human, and I even though I wanted you terribly, I was terrified of doing something, _anything_ , that would hurt you or cause you harm.  And the only way I seemed to be able to ensure that was to control the situation last night.  In any way I could.  I had no intention to initially bind your arms like I did, but my bandana had just been lying there and it seemed like such an easy solution to free up my hands so I—”

            “I don’t see how it was so bad then?”

            “Feronia,” Leonardo growled out, surging to his feet and storming half across the kitchen before whirling back to her.  “It is because I _liked_ it.  The way you listened and responded to my commands, they way you trusted me to tie your arms up…it made my blood boil even more, even knowing what you went through at NexGen labs.  What kind of sick fuck does that?” 

            In the silence that filled the kitchen, he couldn’t look at her.  He was a deadly warrior, and he couldn’t look at the woman he made love to last night.  Leonardo just stood there, breath heaving as he felt his world shatter around him.  He couldn’t see the disappointment, the disgust in her eyes…

            The warmth of a small hand settled against his left cheek, and he opened his eyes to find one sheet covered, winged beauty standing before him.  And those pools of gray didn’t have a speck of disgust in them, nor disappointment.  Was…was that a flare of heat swirling in the depths of her eyes?  Her tongue flicked out to moisten the curve of her lower lip, and he found his gaze drawn to her mouth, a groan of need nearly slipping past his own lips.

            “What…what if I like that about you?”

            His mind seemed to stutter to a stop.  “I don’t understand.”

            “Leonardo, you are the only one that makes me feel like I have a dozen butterflies in my stomach.  The only one who can give me an order and it makes my heart race.   Last night was anything _but_ disgusting or disappointing.  It was erotic and sensual and so wonderfully overwhelming, and _you_ gave that to me.  And look,” Feronia continued, dropping her hand to slowly spin around in place before him.  “I’m not broken or damaged in anyway…granted a little sore but, you ensured that.  What does it say about me that I liked everything, _everything¸_ that you did?”

            With every pound of his heart against his ribs, hope surged within him, flooding his veins as he looked down at the amazing creature who had nothing but honesty in her words and truth in her eyes.

            Reaching up, she cupped his face between her palms, tugging him down to her.  “Just thinking about last night…I burn for you, Leonardo.”

            Those last words were his undoing, and he closed the distance between them, capturing her mouth with his and spearing a hand into the tresses of her hair so he could cup the back of her head.  He felt her tongue flit against his lips, urging his need into a greater inferno.  He had to make sure, though.  He needed her to know that anything he did, everything he did, was for her.

            Breaking the kiss, her disappointed little groan almost made his knees buckle.  “Feronia, are you sure?”

            She nodded.  “I want to be with you, Leonardo.  In every way I can.”

            “Then,” Leo dropped his forehead against hers, reaching down within him for restraint.  “Then, we will figure it out together.  What we each like, what we don’t.  What works for the both of us and…”

            “Yes, Leo.”

            His eyes flicked to the door to the bathroom across the kitchen, and the mere thought that struck him had his groin surging.  Leo stepped away long enough to catch her hand in his and tug her along behind him as he crossed the kitchen, opening the doorway to the newly remodeled bathroom.  One final tug had her within the space with him, and he closed the door.  “I feel the need for a shower.  And you are going to join me.”

            He paused for a beat or two, watching every emotion that flitted across her face.  Already he had delivered an order, a command, without even thinking.  It was instinct to him, ingrained in him from such an early age, but he never realized until he had Feronia in his arms that a command could be so erotic, bring so much heat to his blood.

            He watched her eyes widen a fraction, the pupils of her eyes expanding.  Not in fear, but in arousal.  The pale skin of her cheeks bloomed into a rosy hue, her lips parting as her breath picked up…oh yes.  _This_ was all arousal.  Need.  Desire.  _For him_. 

            Although the newly remodeled bathroom now boasted more room, most of that space had gone to the shower since it had been expanded into what was the mudroom of the old farmhouse.

            But, he didn’t want to think she never had any choices of her own in this relationship.  So, while she remained there, watching him, he unwrapped the towel from around his waist, letting it drop to the bathroom floor before sliding the frosted glass doors of the new shower stall aside and stepping into the tiled space beyond.  Frosted glass doors stretched from one wall to the other behind him, and the three tiled walls that boxed off the area sported a variety of handles and knobs on each wall. 

            It took three long strides to reach the wall opposite to the still open shower stall door, and as he crossed the tiled floor to start fiddling with knobs and handles, he was thankful Donnie designed the bathroom remodel to give either enough turning space for a massive shell or a pair of indigo-and-black wings.  Even if this bathroom was half the size as the one they had in the lair.

            Each set of knobs or levers seemed to operate the shower heads above them on each wall, and he began to turn on the water, adjusting the temperature to a decent warmth.  As steam began to billow up from the water as it hit the coolness of the tiled floor before it flowed to the drain and disappeared, he pivoted enough to look back over his shoulder and the dark haired, winged woman still waiting in the main part of the bathroom.   She still had the sheet wrapped around her, one dainty hand clutching the edges of the sheet closed against her chest.

            Leonardo remained quiet, but did hold out one hand, palm up, in a silent question.  Those slate gray eyes met his, and with a slow grin, she released her hold on the sheet and let it ruffle down her body to land in a pile at her feet, revealing her nakedness to his gaze. 

            As she placed her hand in his and he helped guide her into the depths of the shower stall and the building steam from the running water, his heart began to pound against his ribs again.  He wondered if she was as affected as he.

            Reaching over to slide the frosted shower door closed, Leo soon found himself enclosed in rising steam and the spray of warm water with the woman who meant everything to him standing before him, her fingers and still held in his.  Letting her hand go, he reached up to place his palm against her chest, just below her collarbone and above her left breast.  He couldn’t help rubbing tiny circles against the base of her throat with this thumb.

            Beneath his large, green palm, her heartbeat thundered against his hand.  His brows dove as he flicked his gaze up, capturing hers.  “You’re nervous?”

            “No”, she said rather breathlessly.  “I mean, yes, I am nervous, but not the bad kind of nervous.  More like…”  Feronia seemed to trail off in thought as if she sought the right words.  “More like excited we are standing in a shower naked together, yet nervous because I don’t know how this will all go between us, and then excited that you and I are doing this… this… relationship, together.”

            “You’re nervous how things will be between you and me?  After the talk we had in the kitchen?”

            Feronia nodded, and Leo found his gaze drawn to her mouth as her tongue darted out to moisten her full lips.  “You said you discovered last night that you liked tying me up a little.  Well, among other elements as well.”

            At her words, he wrenched his gaze back to hers and he focused entirely on what she was trying to say, ignoring the raging erection he knew he sported.  What she was trying to convey pivotal to him.  “I did,” he confirmed.  Out in the kitchen, before he had dragged her into the bathroom to clean up with him, she had confessed to enjoying what they did together.  Was she changing her mind? 

            The winged human took a tiny step toward him, bringing herself closer until their bodies were nearly touching, her face turned up to his.  Leonardo didn’t see any sort of worry creasing that smooth brow, only curiosity glimmered up at him in the depths of those gray eyes.

            “Will you always have to tie me up in some way?”

            His sudden bark of laughter was one of relief, not mockery, and he felt the tension he hadn’t realized he was holding ease from his shoulders.  “Oh, Sweetheart,” he exclaimed, moving away from her and rolling his shoulders as the last of the pent up tension from the morning drained away while he scanned the shower stall for a bar of soap.  Spotting it, he snagged it up in one hand before turning back to his girl.  “Tying you up was something impromptu, even if it was something I really liked.  But no, it won’t be every time.  I don’t think I will need it,” Leo finished.

            “Oh really?  Do tell, my dear warrior.”

            Leonardo decided he really liked her calling him that.  Reaching out, he caught the back of her head in his free hand and stooped down, capturing her lips with his in a quick, searing kiss that he broke instantly.  This time, he caught her gaze with a heated look that brooked no argument.  “Open your mouth for me, Fer,” he murmured a split second before he claimed her mouth again.  The shiver that coursed through her from head to toe didn’t go unnoticed.  And the first flick of his tongue against her lips revealed them already parted.  As exhilaration flooded his veins at her eagerness to relent his request, he groaned as he swept inside the warm recess of her mouth, tasting her as he wished.  Her own tongue flicked and dueled with his, but when she tried to follow his tongues retreat into his mouth, he broke the kiss off, rising as his chest heaved to catch his breath.

            “Instead of just telling you why, why don’t I show you, Sweetheart?”  At her nod, he backed up a bit and brandished the soap he had snagged.  “We should try to get clean before we get too carried away, though.”

            “Alright,” Feronia agreed, her voice laced with a huskier note.  Turning, she closed her eyes and stepped beneath the warm spray from one of the shower heads.  Leo simply watched for a moment as rivulets of clear water cascaded down her shoulders, running down the slim line of her back to track between her wing-base at the back of her shoulders.  He was helpless, gaze seized by those trails of water as they dipped into the curve at her lower back before following her body over her ass.  All that creamy skin beckoned him like a man dying of thirst who just found that lifesaving drink of water. 

            Leo moved in.

            Drawing behind her, he slid the hand still clutching the soap under her right wing and around the trim valley of her waist until his soap-filled hand settled against her stomach where a belly button should be.  Gently, he drew her back against him until her weight settled back against his plastron protected chest.  Her back was lined up to his front, and he groaned as his lower body, hard and aching, pressed up against the small of her back.  Reaching around with his other hand, he turned the water off from the showerheads spraying directly on them, leaving water spraying from the walls on his left and right. 

            Pressing a kiss to the top of her soaked hair, his hands drew in slick caresses up her arms to her shoulders and then back down, where he snagged a hold of both wrists in a gentle grasp, the soap nearly flying from his wet hand in the process.  All focus on her, watching every nuance and every reaction, he brought her hands up, bending her arms at the elbows until he drew her hands to the back of her head.  He placed her hands one on top of the other, and then settled his soap free hand over both of hers.  It left her standing before him, both arms held up and hands behind her head as she faced the wall ahead of them.  A tremble raced through her dark feathered wings.  “Sweetheart, I don’t want these arms moving.  Understood?”

            When she shook her head, he felt a bolt of instinct.  “No. I need you to answer me, always.  With words.  I want to make sure you’re safe with everything we do, Fer.  And a simple nod of your head does not convey everything.”

            “Okay, Leo.  I won’t move my arms.”

            And that’s when it hit him.  A musky scent began to mix with the steam filling the bathroom; one that almost sent him to his knees with need.  Feronia was aroused by this.  By him.  By his dominance.

            Willing his body under his control, he pushed the feeling of his enflamed flesh pressed against her slick back from his mind, clearing his head to focus.  Letting her hands go, he reached around and began to rub the bar of soap between his two green, three fingered hands, working up a thick, rich lather.  And then he explored Feronia’s body, soap slicked hands first settling against the curve of her hips before he dropped to a knee, running his hands down the smooth expanse of one smooth, lean leg.  Her breath hitched when his fingers lingered on the skin behind her knee, and he catalogued that away for later, for when he would repeat this whole process with his mouth as he tasted every inch of her.  He let his hands leave one leg to encircle her other ankle, repeating the process of spreading the slick soap up that wet leg.

            As he neared the tops of her thighs, instead of diving right between her legs, he slid his hands to her ass, cupping the pert globes in each hand, running his palms over all that creamy skin.  She shifted when he let his thumb trace the crease of her buttocks, and he couldn’t help the wolfish grin he felt on his face when he heard a breathy moan. 

            He determined it would be the first of many moans she breathed before he was through.  The sounds she made last night during their passionate moment in the kitchen during the storm surfaced to his mind, and he wondered what other sounds of pleasure he could get her to make. 

            Well, he was determined to find out.

            Rising back to his feet, he again urged her back against him, her now soapy skin slicking against his, adding to the sensual feel of skin on hide. 

            “Do you soap up your feathers?” he asked down toward the top of her head.  He loved their height differences.

            Feronia’s arms began to lower as she started to turn around. 

            Before he realized he even moved, Leonardo had a hand flying up to settle against the column of her throat in a solid, steady weight, drawing her back against him with a sudden tug.  “What did I say?”

            Her gasp was audible in the shower, but she hurriedly replaced her hands behind her head.

            That musky scent came stronger.

            “Um, yes, once a week I do try to suds them all up, but unless I am really grimy or dirty, I just rinse them.  They take forever to dry.”

            “Well, you were just eating dirt practically all day yesterday while you were practicing your flying,” Leo started, stamping down the anger and frustration her actions had inflicted on him when he discovered she had been practicing on her own.  But they had already discussed that, and now, in this shower, was not the time to dredge that topic back up.  “So why don’t we get these wings clean?”

            And with those words, he let his hand drift away from the column of her neck, back to her shoulder while he settled his other hand on the other side of her neck before following the same path from neck to shoulder. 

            The contrast between the deep green of his hide was stark against the white porcelain of her skin, and he was once again floored that this stunning creature was giving herself to him in such a deep, complete way.  It was a gift he would not squander.

            He followed the line of her shoulders to the spine of her back, dipping down to the space between her wing-base, and then the calloused hide of his palms were rasping up over the arching rise of each feather covered wing.  Tracing each wing edge, he mapped out the path to the bend in her wing, following the arch of the wing joint and down to the long sweeping stretch of indigo touched feathers, lowering to his haunches once again to follow them to where the wing tips hovered, shakingly, just above the tiled floor.  He snatched up the soap to quickly work up more lather before running the flat of his hands down the broad blade of each wing.

            “Are your wings sensitive?”

            “No, and yes.  I never liked people touching them before.  In the lab, the scientists, anything with my wings was always another test, another X-ray, or whatever else they needed.  So they aren’t sensitive, oh say like—”

            Her words broke off as he took his right hand away from her right wing and curved his hand around the upper thigh of her left leg, his two fingers slicking between the skin of her inner thighs, nearly, but not quite, ghosting the sensitive flesh between her legs.

            Feronia actually gave a little jump and a shout in surprise, and his eyes flew to her hands pressed against the back of her head.  Her hands were clenched into two fists against the wet tendrils of her black hair as she strove to listen to his order.  _Good girl._

            He repeated the ghosting caress again.  “Sensitive like this?”

            “N-n-no, not sensitive like that.”

            “I think I understand what you are trying to say.”  Leo removed his hand from her leg and continued to soap up her wings, running his hands along the inside expanse of each wing.  “Your wings are a unique, glorious part of your body.  Someone just coming up and caressing them is just as intimate of a touch as, say, caressing a breast.”  And with his words, he reached his hands around to slick them up the smooth plains of her front until he had the weight of each breast cupped in a hand.

            A moan wrenched from her throat.  “Y-yes.”

            With his own breath heaving and heart thundering in his chest, Leo spent a long moment massaging and caressing her breasts, feeling the nipples harden against his palms.  And when he flicked his soap slicked thumbs over the pert peaks, Feronia arched her back against him with a gasping moan, breath panting just as hard as his.

            “Leo, I…please…”

            “Mmm…I’m not quite done soaping you up yet, Sweetheart.”

            Her groan of frustration made his pride soar.

            He finished soaping up her torso, and then let one hand drift down her front, lower over her smooth abdomen, and into the curls that crested the v of her thighs. 

            But he wanted more. 

            With one foot, he nudged her feet apart, coaxing her to spread her legs for him, hearing the hitch in her heaving breaths as she slid her feet further and further apart.

            “Leo, I’m going to slip on the tile,” Feronia groaned out.

            “Shh,” he murmured into the top of her hair while he slung his other arm around her waist, solidly holding her tight against him.  “A little more, Feronia.”

            At his order, she moaned, wings beginning to tremble with her rising arousal, and he grinned as she eased her feet apart even more, trusting him to keep her from slipping.

            “That’s it,” he groaned, the need rising audibly in his chest as he took a moment to collect his control. 

            He had the winged woman in his embrace, arms held behind her head by her own will to follow his command, legs spread, and standing vulnerable before him. 

            He slipped his hand down further and past that thatch of dark curls. 

            Both their groans filled the steam shrouded shower in unison as his two fingers began to slick through the folds of her most intimate place.  She was so slick and wet and _hot_ in his hand. 

            But Leonardo forced himself to take his time.  Dredged up every minute amount of discipline that had been drilled in him with hours upon hours of tedious training to create the warrior he was today.  And as his forefinger slicked up and over that little nubbin of flesh that had her calling out last night, he needed every ounce of that warriors control as his name left her lips in a husky shout. 

            He mapped her body here too, circling that tiny nub that had this woman shuddering and moaning in his arms.  It was a good thing he had a solid arm around her waist as she writhed against him, and he bit off a curse as the soap-slicked skin of her lower back caressed over the aching flesh of his erection.  Leo wasn’t sure how much more he could take. 

            So he dipped a finger lower, seeking her entrance and slowly pushing in, trying to focus on her reactions, ready to catch any sign of pain from her.   Leonardo knew he was larger than what he had seen in his research of human men, and he would not, _would not¸_ hurt Feronia in any way.

            But as her heat encompassed his finger, muscles fluttering around the intrusion and her moans turned wholly needy and urgent, he began to realize the wonder of the female body as she accommodated his finger. 

            Leo needed her.  Needed to be inside her.  _Now._

Removing his hand and loving the little growl of disagreement she gave at his action, he lifted her enough to stand on her own two feet and turned her to face him. 

            Her gorgeous features had his heart skipping a beat.  Gray eyes filled with desire turned up to meet his gaze, cheeks flushed a rosy hue, mouth plump and swollen from his earlier kisses.  Wet curls of midnight black hair hung around her shoulders, and the expanse of her wings shuddered with the tremors that raced through them.

            He dipped his head down for a quick kiss.  “Remember, keep those arms up.”

            And with that reminder, he crouched down, gripped her ass in his hands, and hoisted her up, lifting her legs around his waist as much as his shell would allow.  Backing her up against the tiled wall, he pressed her against the smooth surface, forcing her wings to spread to accommodate and using his upper body to pin her against the wall long enough to shift the hold he hand on her legs, quickly grasping under one knee with a hand, draping that leg over his forearm, before securing her other leg just the same.

            Once he was certain she was secure, he eased up the pressure he was putting on her with his upper body, and reveled in their new position.  With her trembling hands still remaining behind her head, keeping her bent arms raised, her entire weight was in his arms.  And with her legs draped over his forearms as they were, he could keep her legs spread as open as he desired.  It put her core right in line with his aching cock, and he knew it must feel like a very vulnerable position.

            And watched the reaction cross her face, the way her eyes widened when her vulnerability registered, the way her breath picked up and her pulse leapt in her throat. 

            “Oh, god, Leonardo,” she moaned out.  “Can I _please_ use my hands?”

            He shook his head.  “No.”

            The shudder that coursed through her preceded the sudden wetness he felt where their bodies nearly joined, further proof that she truly desired this interaction between them. 

            “But, I just want to touch you too,” Feronia practically whined.

            “Keep your arms there, Fer,” Leo restated his demand.   “This is all about you.  You can explore me all you want later.”

            And then with her thighs gripped in each hand, legs dragged over his forearms, he lowered her, slowly, until he felt the head of his cock slip through her folds, and he shifted her until he finally felt the heat of her entrance begin to open over his aching flesh. 

            He eased her down, feeling her body flutter and squeeze around him as he slid into her welcoming heat.  Her dusky lashes drifted down over her eyes as she moaned when his first ridge slipped past her opening, and he grit out her name.

            “Eyes open and on me.”

            Gray eyes flew open, and as he continued to slowly lower her, their gazes never once broke from the each other.  A surge of emotion welled in him as he watched the expressions cross her face; determination to listen to his commands and keep her trembling arms up and hands clasped behind her head, keep her eyes open and on him, even as passion and desire danced across her features.   It was a surge of emotion he had felt for this winged woman long before this shower, long before last night.  Slowly lowering her onto him, feeling her body grip him like a fist, only enhanced that surging emotion tenfold. 

            Leonardo, fierce ninja warrior, defender of innocents, protector of New York City, loved this woman with every fiber of his being. 

_Love._  He was in love with Feronia so much he felt as if his heart would burst.  He had been in love with her since she first raged at him on that windy rooftop, raging at him about needing her freedom.  Never had he felt such an emotion of this strength.  But…did…did she feel the same?  He could demand it of her, order her to tell him how she felt.

But he didn’t want that.  He wanted the words from her of her own free will.   And he wanted those words from her when not influenced with the heady drug of passion and desire as he took her in the most intimate way a man could take a woman.

No, he would bide his time and tell her when it was the right moment to do so.  For now, he would show her with his actions.

She still had much to take of his shaft, so he narrowed his focus to the goal of lowering her onto him, the muscles in his arms bunched and tight as they easily held her weight against him.

“Leo,” she gasped when another of his concentric ridges slid into her.

For a long time, the steam filled shower was filled with the combination of their ragged gasps as he sank her onto him, her breathy moans and whimpers urging him to drive into her even as his warrior’s pride reined himself in.  Maybe in time, some day, he would be able to sink into her in one solid thrust like he longed to do.  But until he was certain she could take such treatment without suffering damage or pain, he would control the situation so he could keep her safe.

Feronia tried to wriggle in his grasp a bit, and he cursed out as it caused her to slip down on him a little faster than he wished.  But he was seated fully inside her, the heat of her body surrounding his.  Dipping his head forward, he caught her mouth with his as he lifted his arms, raising her off of him and feeling himself glide from her depths.

They groaned in unison.

He repeated the same process, until Feronia was a mass of begging need, nearly sobbing in her desperation to have more of him as the passion between them heated tenfold.  But he took her as he needed, as he wanted…slow and steady, raising and lowering her onto his cock while warm water sprayed on either side of them and steam rose up to shroud them in their own little world.

And he held out until he felt her body stiffen and her eyes roll up into her head a split second before her heat clenched around him in an unrelenting fist.  Her back arched, pushing her body away from the wall in a bow, her wings shuddering as they hung on either side of her and his name wrenching from the depths of her throat on an airy, wailing cry.  Then, only then, did he let himself go, let his body succumb to the release that surged through him, and he held her tight to him as he felt his cock pulse inside her depths as Leo emptied himself into her body.

Leaning his head down, chest heaving as he gasped for breath, he drew his mouth to her ear, whispering that she could lower her arms.

At once, her arms lowered to wind around his head, gripping him to her as she shuddered in his arms, her wings curving forward to drape around them both.

Eventually he shifted his hold to lower her, uncaring of how his hands shook as he reverently placed a hand on either side of her head and kissed her slowly.

***

            Later that night, with her head pillowed on his chest, Feronia contentedly listened to Leonardo breathe, finding the rhythmic thud of his heart against her ear soothing in a way she couldn’t describe.  Idly, she traced small circles against the muscled planes of his plastron protected abdomen while one large, warm hand caressed her lower back, smiling when his fingers tended to reach out to graze the swell of her butt.

            This wonderful man, raised in the shadows of the New York City sewers into a commanding, honorable warrior and leader, spent the entire day taking her body in some form or another.  And it wasn’t all just sex.  After the shower, true to his word, he let her explore him as she wished…after his voice dipped down into that note of command that caused awareness to arrow through her and slick heat to grow between her thighs as he told her to use her mouth, and only her mouth.

            She felt him shift beneath her as he turned his head, his lips pressing a kiss into the crown of her hair.  Feronia smiled against his chest at the action.  It was something Leonardo seemed to do often, pressing that particular kiss against the top of her head.

            “What are you thinking?” his voice rumbled into the darkness of the bedroom.

            She took a moment to find the right words.  “Just how content I am.”  Sliding her hand over his chest and down his side until her arm stretched over him, she hugged him to her before propping herself up on the brown expanse of his modified plastron to find his eyes in the semi darkness of the moonlight bedroom.  “How right this feels.  How happy I am that you busted in to NexGen labs.”

            Two green, muscled arms slid up under her wings and wrapped around her, holding her even tighter to him.

            “Feronia, I—”

            She cut off his words with a gentle press of her fingers against his wide lips.  She didn’t want to hear about NexGen anymore.  But she had needed him to know her thanks for giving her a life she never imagined she could have while in that lab.

            Rising up, she leaned in and kissed him, pouring everything she felt into that kiss.  Their time together was drawing short.  His brothers were returning tomorrow, and Leonardo could not stay with her indefinitely at the farmhouse.  He had a city to protect, and warrior brothers to lead in that endeavor.  She could not monopolize his time.

            There was so much she wanted to tell him, so much new and strange emotions flooding her she felt overwhelmed by them all.   How did she tell the man who walked into danger nearly every day that she…that she…

            With an almost desperate hunger, she shifted, lifting her wings high over her back until the wings nearly pressed back-to-back so she had the room to climb up and swing a leg over his hips without once breaking their kiss.  As her wings lowered, she felt his hands run up and down her spine, the calloused palms sending sensations skittering over nerve endings.

            If she didn’t know how to say it, because in all reality, although the words seemed so simple, voicing them seemed far less so, she would just have to show him. 

            So she moved over the top of him, kissing him with hungry yearning, feeling her lips lift into a smile against his mouth when one three-fingered hand fisted in her hair as he took total control of the kiss from her.  It amazed her how easily he could do so.  Take control.  And how eagerly her body responded to that.  Feronia would have never, ever, guessed that someone ordering her to explore his body with nothing but her mouth would be so sensually exhilarating, especially when she spent her entire existence bucking against authority.

            But with Leonardo, it was more than just controlling her.  Her acquiescence seemed to stoke the flames of passion in him as easily as his dominance seemed to ignite a wildfire within her.  And yet, through it all, she felt _safe_.  Protected.  Treasured.

            And yet, she couldn’t help but feel that everything was too perfect.  That something was seething on the horizon, lurking, ready to snatch her happiness from her with unrelenting fervor.  What was that saying?  Waiting for the shoe to drop?  Feronia thought she finally understood what that phrase meant.

            As Leonardo kissed her so thoroughly she began to see stars against her eyelids, Fer slid one hand down his body to grasp him in her hand, causing the man-turtle to break his kiss with a low, guttural grown that had her belly clenching deep and low.  She wanted him, and she wanted him now.

            Rising up, she kept her hand gripped around him as she lowered herself over him, lining him up to her body until he began to sink into her, a groan of pleasure erupting from them both.

            Those cobalt blue eyes of his speared into her, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away from his even if she tried.  She didn’t know a look of his could get more intense, but as he lay there propped up in her big bed to accommodate the shell on his back, that intense gaze watched her as she lowered herself onto him, biting her lip against the slight, stinging stretch that still seemed to happen until she finally was grinding down against his hips.  And for a long moment, the sounds of their panted moans filled the night cloaking them as she rode her warrior.

            But it wasn’t long until she felt two strong hands grip her hips, holding her half raised above him, poised as he began to surge up into her over and over, faster and faster, until all she could do was toss her head back as Leonardo claimed her yet again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is now completed, thought it didn't end where I thought it would end. So, you guys might get one more chapter from me. I had envisioned this story concluding with 15 chapters, but since I didn't end up ending it as originally planned, I might have to do one more. Also, I do apologize for the entire chapter basically being porn. It turned out longer than I thought, but that is because I like to write the sex in romance as a very strong emotional experience, so hence the long chapter of enough steaminess I feel like I need a cold shower. Enjoy!


	13. Chapter Thirteen

 

            There was this… _thing_ …hanging over her, a thing Feronia could not figure out.  Intangible and elusive, and yet it was something that strung coils of unease deep in her belly.  And the most frustrating element of it?  Feronia did not know _exactly_ where it stemmed from.

            Undoubtedly a large part was due to the overhanging shadow of the elusivity of the General and Dr. Grayston’s presence.  It seemed that no matter how diligent the brothers remained with their unending patrols of New York City, they could not unearth the duo’s location.

            And ever since her relationship with the katana-wielding leader had so recently bloomed into something _more,_ Leonardo had become even more determined to hunt out and stop the ever present threat to her existence.  His focus, already as lethally honed as the edge of his sword, became even more deadly.

            Feronia shuddered as she thought being on the business end of that steely, blue-eyed gaze.  But that shudder swiftly morphed, turning sensual and deep and toe curling with heat as she thought of being on the receiving end of that unwavering blue focus for entirely different reasons – a look that demanded her acquiescence, and if she did, promised intense pleasure.

            She would have never fathomed such hot, passionate sensations existed at all.

            And yet Leo would stalk toward her, his hulking, shelled bulk strung taught with the tension of leadership and the responsibility of thousands of innocent’s safety laid upon his shoulders, and her whole body would quiver.

            Not in fear.  Never in fear.

            But in anticipation of surrendering to him.

            She was unsure if their relationship was in the _normal_ category or not, but then again Leonardo was a badass ninja warrior mutated from the genes of a turtle, and she had giant, bird-of-prey wings sprouting from her back.  None of their lives would ever be normal.

            Over the last few weeks of her existence at the farmhouse, her relationship with the deadly warrior continued to morph and grow.  True to his word, they both continued to discover what either of them liked or disliked. 

            For instance, the first and only time he spanked her, a stinging swat from one large, green, three-fingered hand had shut her down cold.  It had been done in fun and excitement, a teasing move as she had been running through the trees, laughter bubbling from her chest, a deadly, shelled ninja in hot pursuit.  The case was exilerating as she tucked her wings close to her back and wove quickly around tree after tree.

            She had known he could catch her easily at any time, and it wasn’t long before a frantic glance over her shoulder only to see no shelled bulk tailing after had her slamming full force into a plastron-protected muscled chest.  Laughing, he had spun her up against the bark of a tree and swatted her backside.  _Hard_.

            The blooming pain had driven every ounce of exhilaration and building passion from her as surely as if she had been dunked into a tub of ice.  Leo had gone stock still behind her as she froze in place, her mind beginning to panic.  But, as he always seemed to do, he read her like a book penned just for him. 

            Feronia had felt herself gently turned, and when she could look everywhere but at him, a solid grip on her chin lifted her gaze to his and held it unrelentingly.

            And like he did all those months ago during that fateful night at NexGen Labs, those intense cobalt blue pools grounded her.

            “Alright, Sweetheart.  This is a good thing to know.” 

            And in playful excitement or in dominating passion, he had never swatted her backside again.  And he was always careful to never intentionally deliver pain.

            Yet even now, as she was being lead toward the farmhouse from after a long walk, two large palms covering her eyes and effectively blinding her, something insidious lurked beneath the sea of happiness swelling inside her.  And Feronia could not figure out what it was.  She didn’t think it stemmed from the man leading her across the yard…

            “Why can’t I go to the house on my own?”  Feronia giggled, choosing to ignore that gnawing portent of doom and focus on that source of happiness behind her.

            Firm lips dropped a kiss to the crown of her head.  “Because I said so.”

            Feronia grumbled half-heartedly, circling a hand around the warmth of each thick wrist.  Her mind buzzed with curiosity.  What was her surprise?  All four brothers, April and Casey, and even Splinter was at the farmhouse today.  Her quiet little refuge practically buzzed with energy.

            With her wings wrapped around her body like a feathered cloak, she manaed to remain quiet for all of two seconds as she was directed across the farmyard.  As her booted feet cringed over the gravel-strewn driveway, Feronia couldn’t help the plaintive whine that escaped her throat.  “ _Leo!_   I’m dying of curiosity here!”

            The chuckle that rumbled against her back sent a fission of awareness through her.  “My Fer, you are so bad with surprises.  But that was a hot little sound you made…maybe I will try to make you do that sound again later.”

            The heady promise in his words sent her heart racing.  But then the heat of a warm, strong palm slid under a wing and along her waist as a muscled band of steel wound around her middle.  Like she weighed nothing, Leo plucked her back up against him, and then her booted feet were deposited on solid ground once again, the dull sound of boots on wood planks telling her he had lifted her up the few stairs of the front porch.

            Reaching out blindly, she felt for the knob to the door only to feel Leo reach around her and nudge it open.

            “She’s here, brah’s!”

            _Thump._

            “What the hell, Raph?  You are always punching me!”

            “Shut it, Mikey.  You will ruin the surprise.”

            “I’m fairly certain there is a 99.924% chance Fer already knows a surprise is immenant.

            “So?  He doesn’t always have to slug me.”

            “I’m findin’ it therapeutic.”

            She kept her bark of laughter in as Leo propelled her forward until the coolness of the kitchen spread out before her.

            Then the warmth of his hands fell away from her face, and she blearily blinked her eyes open.  As soon as one lid cracked, boisterous shouts from those she loved so dearly assailed her, along with a faceful of tiny bits of colored paper doused over her head.

            “Surprise!” several voiced shouted in unison.

            Feronia blinked at the scene before her, her mind numbly kicking into gear.

            The kitchen table was piled with several boxes all wrapped in bright paper.  A large, extremely large, cake with bright red letters scrawled across the surface of the white frosting sat in the middle of the wrapped boxes, and the powerful forms of the three mutant turtles, an elderly human-sized rat, and April and Casey lingered around the kitchen table, huge grins plastered over their faces.

            Warm lips teased the shell of her ear.  “Happy birthday, Feronia,” Leo rumbled.

            She seemed stunned even as Mieky bounded forward to scoop her up in a bear hug, wings and all, twirling her around.

            “Yeah!  Happy birthday, Fer-bear!”

            She had not even realized the passage of days!

            Donnie nodded eagerly, pushing his glasses further on the wide bridge of his nose.  Yes, I have been going through any and all files recovered from the night NexGen Labs was shut down.  This is the date recorded as being the first you drew breath.  Hence, your birthday.”

            Tears made her vision swim as she turned to look at her tall, dangerous ninja.  “I’ve never had a birthday party!”

            One large, green forefinger swept a stray black curl of hair off her brow.  “I want to give you everything, you know.”

            The look burning in his deep, blue eyes was something entirely different, yet no less intense.  She opened her mouth to reply just as she was yanked eagerly over to the table and tugged in front of Raphael’s bulked out form.  “Enough teary shit…let’s party!”

            The rest of the day was a whirlwind of fun and games, and Feronia couldn’t possibly imagine being any happier.  Evening was drawing near as they finally let her open the brightly wrapped boxes.  Opening each present surrounded by this strangely put together family was paradise. 

            Until she opened the second to last gift, given from the bo-staff wielding warrior.

            Reaching into the box she had just opened, her breath caught in her throat.  Feronia couldn’t imagine anything better than the gift from Raphael and Michelangelo; all Superman DVDs, from the classic television series to the most recently made movies.  They had given her months of viewing at her disposal.

            But at the bottom of the box from the tech-loving warrior was something that made her breath catch.  Even before her hand grasped around the handle, this one gift was making her feel powerful and capable.

            Donnie fidgeted in his seat.  “I hope you like it.  I figured you would have an aerial advantage that even we,” and he gestured to himself and his brothers, “can achieve…”

            His words seemed to be drowned out as Feronia brought out the gift.  An intricately made, small and compact crossbow, it looked small enough to be no bigger than a handgun.  Complicated gears filled the body, and Donnie surged forward.  “It even has cartridges of bolts you can snap in that will automatically load every time you pull the string back and lock it—”

            One large, green hand dropped into view as Leonardo reached over and plucked the mini crossbow right out of her grasp.  “What the hell were you thinking, Donnie?”  This is the big secret project you have been working on?”

            “Well, as a matter of fact, Leo, yes.  With her flying now, she can easily—”

            “No.”

            Feronia surged to her feet, rounding on the blue-eyed leader.  “What do you mean, _no_?  It’s my gift, and I should be able to defend myself.  You all have weapons!”  Even as she pointed out that fact, a small part of her dimly realized she sounded juvenile and petty.  But holding that small crossbow even a few moments had her feeling much less like a victim. 

            Leo had been glaring at his younger brother, but at her rant, those intense eyes slammed into hers.  “I said no.  You do not need weapons.”

            Something cold and hard began to spread within her chest.  “You don’t get to dictate what I get to do with my life, Leo.  Give me my gift back.”

            The towering hulk of turtle actually leaned down, getting right in her face.  “I said no.”  he repeated.  “We will stop the general—”

            Black, indigo tinted wings snapped up into a poised hold as Feronia’s back straightened.  “Whatever we have, _Leonardo_ , does not give you the right to control every aspect of my existence.  I will never allow that.”

            Silence reigned down around them as the two faced off, glaring at one another.  And there in the glittering depths of his eyes, she saw it.  She saw the unwavering resolve.  Leo would not bend on this. 

            Anger, swift and sure, overshadowed everything she was feeling.  Blinking back the tears of frustration that threatened to fall, she gave a small nod.  Turning, she spared everyone at her party a glance.  “I apologize, but I feel the need for some air.”

            And before anyone could utter another peep, Feronia stalked from the farmhouse and out into the dawning night.

            That was three days ago.

***

            Leo had worked his body to exhaustion in the training room, pushing his brothers gruelingly in a series of new moves they were all working on.  All four of them sported green hides that glistened with sweat, and yet he pushed himself on.  When his brothers became fed up with the grueling training, he had turned to weights, punching a bag as if it was the General himself.

            Yet his mind continued to circle the day of Feronia’s birthday party.  Everything had been going so perfectly, and yet at the end of the day, he had stalked from that house and roared his bike to life, speeding down the highways back to the lab.  Leo knew he had to talk to Feronia.  But he was still working on a way to do so without bringing his own volatile frustrations into the mix. 

            With a growl, the finally stalked away from the training room.   It wasn’t until he was sinking his sore body onto the edge of his bed, stooping forward to let his head fall into his hands, that Leonardo allowed himself to ponder his dilemma.  Glancing up, his gaze alighted on the very object that had caused the fracture, this maddening chasm, between he and his girl. 

            She didn’t need a weapon!  He could keep her safe.  He and his brothers worked tirelessly to make certain nothing threatened Feronia’s existence…

            Reaching down into a deep pocket of his black cargo pants, his hands fisted around a small, velvet covered object.

            A gentle nock on his door had him lifting his head as the door to his private room opened.  Splinter’s head peered around.  Spotting him, the old ran moved further into the room, closing it softly behind him. 

            For a long moment, his Sensai merely leaned back against the closed door, crossing his arms over his chest and simply peering at him with those fathomless black eyes of his.

            Leo felt a muscle tick in his jaw, waiting for his father to speak.

            Yet time continued to tick on.  Until Leo surged to his feet, pacing the length of his room.  It wasn’t a large space, and he could stalk across the distance from one wall to the other in three long strides, his hand never leaving his pocket.

            “She doesn’t need a weapon, Dad.”

            Silence.

            “I can ensure her safety.  I know it.”

            Silence.

            Leo stalked back toward the opposite wall, finally brandishing forth the object he clutched desparately.  Turning toward his father, Leo held out his hand, opening his fingers.  Nestled in his palm was a velvet covered box.  The old rat reached out, carefully taking it.

            His throat worked as he tried to swallow, watching Splinter open the small jewelry box.  A simple band of silver sporting a sapphire of deepest blue winked up at the old rat.  “I was going to ask her to be mine, Dad.  But I never got the chance to bring it up.  To give it to her.  And now?  Now I don’t know if she would accept it.  I may have just ruined everything.”

            With a groan, Leo sank back down to his mattress, sitting at the edge.  For once, he was finding himself in territory he did not know how to navigate.  He was on unsure ground with Feronia.

The slight weight of his father dipped the mattress as the old rat settled down beside him, still holding the open ring box. 

            “I remember trying my best to keep four young turtles safe from the cruelties of the outside world.” 

            Turning, Leo’s gaze met the dark pools of his father’s.

            “I seem to remember none of you being truly happy.  Not until you went out, defying me and my wishes, to discover your true potentials.”

            The emotion rocketing through Leonardo was so intense, it threatened to choke him.  “She is everything, dad.  Losing her would hollow me.”

            Gently, Splinter closed the ring case and handed it back to him, rising to his feet.  One, long fingered hand gnarled by the ever-turning passage of time settled atop the smooth dome of his head.  “Have you told her what you hold in your heart?”

            Silently, Leonardo shook his head.

            “Even the greatest leaders, the most hardened of warriors, face their most terrifying adversary when it comes to matters of the heart.  I fashioned you into the leader you are now because of what I could see burgeoning in your soul; a just, fair mind and an honorable soul.  You know the answer, my son.  And it takes immeasurable bravery to trust in that.”

            Just as silently as he had slipped in, his father left him. 

            Leo did know his ultimate decision.  His gaze landed on the small crossbow he couldn’t bring himself to destroy.  Rising to his feet, he snatched up the small weapon and flung his door open, stalking toward Donnie’s lab.

            The following day, Leonardo rumbled his bike to a halt before the farmhouse.  His heart was hammering against his ribs, anxiety not an emotion he was usually afflicted with.  Would she forgive him?  Would Feronia…

            Pushing such thoughts from his mind, Leo stalked through the house, only to find the large, two story home empty and quiet.  Unease curled through him as he searched the barn with no sight of his girl.  She wouldn’t leave him without a word, would she? 

            It was an early autumn mid-day, and the cheery sunlight and twittering birds did little to calm his rising paranoia as he began to search the farmyard for the sweep of black wings.

            Leondardo eventually found Feronia near the hayfield that stretched onward, the alfalfa tall enough to roll like waves of the sea as the breeze gusted across the field.  At first, it took every ounce of training he possessed to keep the alarm coiling through him at bay when he searched the farmhouse and grounds for nearly half an hour for the winged human with no results.

            It wasn’t until he decided to walk down to the pon that a flutter of smoky black caught his eye.

            There in the grass, under the shade of a willow tree, he found Feronia.  Dressed in a flowing, airy yellow sundress that ruffled in the breeze, she was a vision that made his heart nearly stop in his chest.  Flat on her stomach, one cheek pillowed on an arm tucked under her head, and the impressive expanse of her unique, perfectly formed wings spread out on either side of her as if she had languorously stretched out the tired, sore wing muscles and dosed off mid stretch, Leo found her fast asleep.

            Moving in silently, he drew close and lowered himself until he sat beside her, taking the rare chance to take her in without the prying eyes of others around.

            Inky black curls tumbled out and around her like a silky cloud, the brisk breeze ruffling a few glossy tresses.  It was amazing how her health had improved so greatly since her stay at the farmhouse.  He could see it in the new shine to her wild curls of silky hair, the sun-kissed glow of her smooth skin.

            The features of her face looked so peaceful in the dream world found only in sleep’s embrace.  She looked so relaxed, her brow smooth and free of the stress that often creased it.  Those full, kissable lips rested a hairsbreadth apart, her breath puffing across the hand tucked under her chin to stir several blades of grass with each exhale.

            Her beauty drew him like a moth to flame.  And the six feet wings of black and indigo feathers that swept out from her back only made her more remarkable to him.

            Even if Leonardo stopped the General and Dr. Grayston, those wings of hers were sure to bring her more trouble. 

            Tearing his eyes away from the sleeping woman, he stared down at his own palm.  It still was difficult for him to believe someone could see past the differences his own form had to offer.

            A murmur snapped his attention back to her, and as he watched, a crease furrowed her brow as the wing closest to him jerked against the grass before it was drawn in to tuck against her back.

            “Noooo…”

            The word wrenched from her lips and Leondardo know Feronia had slipped into one of her nightmares.

            Reaching out with one green-skinned hand, he gently slid his hand against the back of her neck until he had her in a solid grip.  “Fer, relax.”  He let a command slip into the words.

            Her whole body went lax as if every ounce of tension from the nightmare that gripped her bled out, and her tensed wing relaxed outward again.

            That bolt of awareness shot through him.  Even in her slumber, she subconsciously submitted to his authority as if she trusted he would keep her safe.

            Holy hell, he was in deep.  Splinter had trained him from day one to be the leader he and his brothers needed.  Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined having his order obeyed so sweetly, so innocently, would awaken a side of him he never knew existed.

            Leo remained there, sitting in the grass beside her, one hand still firmly on the back of her neck.  Gently, he let his thumb draw circles along the column of her throat until she began to stir from slumber.

***

            Slowly coming awake, Feronia nearly stretched like a cat at the warm, caressing touch at the back of her neck.  Blinking awake blearily, strong thighs encased in black cargo pants greeted her confused gaze, and as she moved to rise to her knees, a warm smile began to lift the corners of her lips. 

            Until the memories of her birthday, now a week ago, assailed her as her gaze met pools of intense blue.  All the warm fuzzy feelings that had began bubbling through her fizzled as her angry, sad frustration overrode everything. 

            She moved to shove his hand from her neck, but Leo’s grip remained solid.  He was not going to let her go.  “Unhand me.”

            The warrior shook his head.  “We are going to talk.”

            Feronia stilled, and at that small halt in movement, Leo had his free arm snagged around her waist and began settling her down on his lap, her legs spread to straddle his thighs.  It was an intimate position, the heat of their groins pressed together.   She did her damnest to ignore the stiff bulge beginning to strain the confines of his cargo pants.

            “I’m not sure I want to talk to you like this.  Not if you are going to just tell me how to live my life.  Dr. Grayston and the General won’t be a problem forever, you know.”  Feronia cursed the hammering of her heart against her ribs, willing her voice to remain steady and unwavering while she tried to face this powerful man with just as much conviction as he was looking at her now.

            A strong hand ran down the wide blade of one wing.  “Even after them, these wings will always make you a target, Fer.”

            She actually growled at him, her hands tightening in small little fists against the broad planes of his chest.  “I know, but I can’t—”

            Winding one arm solidly around her waist to keep her held against him, he reached behind him with the other, picking an object up out of the grass she hadn’t even  noticed was there.   Feronia gasped, her eyes going wide as she watched him bring the small crossbow between them.  Tentatively, she reached out, one hand wrapping around the handle of the weapon.

            When she tugged though, he did not relent Donatelo’s gift to her.  Her eyes flicked up, captured and held resolutely in his.

            “I promised you we would work on figuring out what this is we have growing between us.  What we have is unique, Fer, and there are no guidebooks or map showing me the way.  And that takes compromise, takes give and take, from both of us.”

            Both of their hands still gripping the dainty crossbow, Feronia nodded as Leonardo’s smooth baritone washed over her. 

            “I can’t expect to control every aspect of your life.  Nor do I want to.  Donnie’s gift was just a fact I was not ready to accept…the fact that no matter how hard I strive to keep you safe, something will always be gunning for you, Feronia.  Just like my brothers and I have to deal with.  So you can have the weapon.”

            A huge smile burst across her face.

            “You can have the weapon,” Leonardo continued succinctly, “if you train with Donnie and me on how to fight with it correctly.  You shouldn’t be shooting bolts to kill, but to incapacitate.  Donnie is working now on several ideas…I believe he said something about bolts that would shock, some that would smoke...uh…honestly it was a bunch of techno mumbo jumbo I didn’t all grasp at the time.  Can you do that?  Will you train with me, Fer?”

            Days of building frustration and anger, of lingering sadness, fell completely to the wayside.  Abandoning her grip on the weapon, Feronia flung her arms around him, sliding her hands between the thick, strong column of his neck and the rise of his hard shell.

            Leo shifted, the weapon clinking as he set it aside once more in the grass.  Then his two arms were around her under her wings, holding her tight to him with a desperation she had never felt before.  The ninja buried his face in the cascade of curls at her shoulder, breathing deep.  You mean the world to me, Sweetheart.   I will always work with you, Fer, if you work with me.  This I vow.  But until my brothers and I can hunt down the General and Dr. Grayston, I need you to remain hidden.  Promise?”

            Feronia nodded, leaning back to catch his look with her own.  “I promise.”

            He shifted under her, and the bulge in his cargo pants that had yet to abate rubbed up against her center, and she groaned aloud, causing the dangerous turtle to still for a beat.  His low chuckle sent a tingle down her spine.  “We will get to that in a bit.  But I have a gift for you.  I never got to give it to you at your party.”

            Reaching into his pants, she curiously eyed the object he withdrew.  It was a sheethed blade, easily as long as her forearm.  The leather sheath looked like it had been tooled with great forethought…blue tinted leather made intricate stitching along the edges of the sheath, and a black metal handle sported from the open end of the sheath. 

            “Up on your knees a bit, Fer.”

            Swallowing hard, she rose up until she straddled over him.  A breath rushed from her lungs as one, battle calloused hand slipped under the edge of her yellow sundress, drawing the skirt up over the silky expanse of her smooth thigh.  Glancing down, she watched him as he tied the sheathed dagger snuggly to her upper thigh, the pads of his fingers ghosting along her skin where the weapon’s sheath sat against her flesh.   He never let her skirt fall back down, either.

            “I want you to train with this, too.  It will make me feel better knowing you have something a little less mechanical to protect yourself with.”

            But Leo’s hand was beginning to trail up the back of her thigh, now beginning to slide over her right cheek as that one large hand cupped her ass.

            One eye ridge rose.

            Feronia gulped, words tumbling from her lips on instinct alone.  “Yes, Sir.”

            A growl rumbled from him even as his other hand snaked up under her wing to delve in the long curls of her hair.  “God, what you do to me, Sweetheart.”

            As he drew her mouth to his to take her lips in a demanding possession, hope flickered anew within the depths of her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had much more planned, but lucky for you lovelies, all the intense action will be moved to chapter 14. I envision two more chapters and an epilogue, and then Feronia and Leo's story will be wrapped up. I do apologize for taking SO long...I have exciting things happening on my end including the start of my own publishing LLC. 
> 
> As for this chapter...it has been a while since I have delved into Flight to Freedom and the characters therein, and there are certainly parts of it that seem rough to me in character consistency and such. Hopefully Feronia feels the same, although I always did have an overall goal for her character development. Overall, I whipped this chapter up with naught but a quick glance over, so I am certain there are editing issues.
> 
> Please enjoy, and as always, I love each and every one of your comments. In fact, re reading them a couple days ago is what drove me ever onward in the pursuit of finishing Flight to Freedom.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles fanfic, a Leonardo/OC romance, which takes place after the events in Out of the Shadows. I don't own the rights to any characters in this piece but my OC, Feronia.

**Chapter 14**

High atop the lone silo in the old farm yard, the twin sweep of feathered wings such a dark shade of black wept up above her several feet before arcing down to narrowed tips in the way only wings could.  Sitting atop the domed cap of the silo meant Feronia had to keep the large aviary limbs held aloft, almost like keeping shoulders held in an exaggerated shrug.  But muscles in her back and shoulder, muscles no other human had, had gained strength and condition from all her dedicated training.  Such a position was now possible, and no longer uncomfortable.

            As a strong breeze buffeted her, lifting the long tresses of curly black hair and ruffling feathers, Feronia ached to jump from this silo, spread her wings, and go wherever the air currents took her.

            Yet, she remained sitting, the steel of the silo cap cold under her backside as she sat crosslegged, staring at the bright orange ball of a setting sun.  As if someone had taken a brush and dipped it in paint, the evening sky was slashed with pinks and purples in a brilliant display.  Behind her, the old farm house was dark and quiet.

            Leonardo had left yesterday to return to the sprawling city of New York, as Chief Vincent needed the brother’s help to keep the maze of streets and high towers safe.  Once again, she was left to keep herself busy.

            Feronia heaved a sigh as she watched the fiery orb in the sky sink lower behind the edge of the horizon.  Beyond the trees that surrounded April’s old farm were fields of alfalfa, the green rolling like waves of water with each gusty breeze.

            A pang she couldn’t explain once again jolted through her.  Instantly, Feronia felt guilty for that sudden stab of restlessness.  She should feel content where she was, high atop this silo, even if she was alone.  Her growing relationship with the blue masked leader made her happier than she had ever experienced.  And the deadly muscled warrior had a way of making her feel incredibly sexy _and_ simultaneously treasured, even if he did enjoy holding the control with the intimate aspect of their budding relationship.

            And here was the most freedom she had ever tasted in her life.

            _She should feel content._

So what was this restlessness that plagued her more and more as the days passed by?

            Feronia had tried to squelch the disturbing feeling by training the past weeks, relentlessly working with Donatello to not only know the ins and outs of her mini crossbow, but how to use it, to fight with it.  She learned  how each unique bolt was crafted and what components were needed to make more.  There were several bolts that were blunted, not intending to cause major damage, but upon impact would release a tazer-like bolt to incapacitate and attacker for several minutes.  Several more had shafts that would release a pepper spray bomb.  And some weren’t meant to be shot at an attacker at all, but to hit a wall and explode into a flash-bang.  And yet the two of them kept trying to brainstorm more ideas.

            And Leonardo himself worked her hard to learn how to fight with the dagger he had gifted her with, sometimes pushing her to the point of collapse. 

            But she understood why; could see the worry lurking in the depths of those intense, cobalt blue eyes.  He worried when he had to leave her, no matter how much she promised she would stay put at the farm, remain unseen.

            The wind shifted, dragging the lifting strands of her black curls across her face.  As she brushed aside the curtain of hair to clear her vision, a scent drifted to her on the breeze. 

            It was unmistakable.

            Something was burning.

            Twisting around to cast her gaze behind her to the east, Feronia froze at the sight of a thick, black column of smoke billowing into the air.  That was the direction of the neighboring farm.

            Scrambling to her feet, she stared at that black smoke.  What should she do?  Rush to the house and dial emergency?  Would doing so risk exposing her secret presence at April’s old home?

            That was probably the best choice —

            The wailing scream of a woman carried across the distance of the fields.

            Feronia was moving even before she had consciously decided on the action, scrambling to her feet and sprinting across the dome cap of the silo.  Wings snapping tight against her back, Feronia dove off the silo like someone diving off a high dive into a pool.

            Ground rushed up to meet her, but in those seconds of freefall, the instinct of flying was already taking over.

            Indigo-hinted black wings snapped out into the full impressive expanse of an 18 foot wingspan, and in the next instant, her winged from was shooting up out of the farmyard and carrying her over the treetops, heading toward that column of smoke.

            Nervousness warred with the exhileration of flying, her veins flooding with adrenaline as the treetops sped by beneath her.  But the necessity of secrecy had Feronia pumping her wings strongly, trying to climb high into the air.  Maybe if she was high enough in the sky, she could remain unseen.

            Far in the distance, the haunting wail of sirens began to be heard even as she neared the column of smoke.  As she neared the neighboring farm, her heart slammed against her ribs at the sight she looked down upon from several hundred feet above.

            The entire two story house was ablaze with fire.  Dipping one wing, Feronia banked on the air currents, circling the black smoke billowing up.  Several small figures were huddled several feet away at a safe distance from the flames that hungrily consumed wood and siding.

            Fer squinted as she looked down at those small people.  There was frantic movement from some of them.  Risking as much exposure as she dared, black wings tucked in the slightest amount to lower her flying form as she made yet another circling sweep around the burning house.

            Her heart ached for the neighbors she had never met as they watched their home become destroyed before them.  As she got closer, a woman’s screams reached Feronia’s ears as she banked in a circle again.

            Sobbing, the woman lunged for the roaring flames even as a man held her back.

            “No, Joanna!  It’s too late!”

            “My baby, Dan!  _Our_ baby!  We can’t leave Sarah!”

            The man broke into sobs even as he held his wife back.

            As Feronia passed by the north side of the house, an opened second floor patio door gave her view of a horrifying sight.  Even as black smoke curled and coiled out of the top of that open patio door, Feronia had a clear sight of a dark wooden crib, smoke swirling like an ominous black cloud of death above it.

            Clutching at the railing of the crib with two tiny hands stood a little girl, blonde pigtails askew and mussed from sleep, pudgy cheeks red from the heat of the room as tears streaked down amidst hiccupping, coughing sobs of fright.

            Everything around Feronia diminished.  The frantic cries of a mother died away.  The stench of burning wood barely registered.

            As she dipped down again and began to circle the house one more time, Feronia caught sight of a closed window next to the crib, straight across the room from the open patio door billowing thick, belching clouds of smoke.

            Her wings surged, pumping as she built speed, circling wide around the house. 

            Startled exclamations below her reached her ears as she dipped a wing to swing around in a tight turn, wind whistling over feathers and snapping her hair into a tangle.

            Her gaze locked in on that open patio door as her turn lined out, the second floor porch below her trajectory.  Black-feathered wings snapped in and against her back. 

            Like an arrow, Feronia shot forward.

            With a huge breath of air, she dove into black smoke and immense heat.  Agony speared through her as muscles and tendons screamed in protest to the snapping point as Feronia dropped the weight of her legs and hit the floor of the room at a speed greater than a dead run.  Pure determination kept her feet beneath her as she charged forward with the headlong momentum.

            It all happened in a matter of seconds.

            Out of her peripheral, flames licked up the closed bedroom door.

            She grasped the small form standing in the crib, clutching the tiny girl against her chest as Feronia swing her wings around her and the child even as she lowered her shoulder and literally charged the opposite window in a move that would have done a linebacker proud.

            Glass gave way under the impact as she dove out into clean, unadulterated air.  Pain bloomed in her side and along her left wing as jagged glass pit deep and tore flesh and sinew.

            With a cry of agony, she forced her wings open as both she and the baby plummeted toward the grass below. 

            Sheer will lone had her catching wind, lining out into a glide mere feet above the unrelenting ground.  But her left wing would not straighten fully, and with a gasped grunt that drove all the wind from her lungs, Feronia slammed into the ground, twisting on her side to protect the precious life in her arms.

            Feronia slid a good fifty yards before she came to a painful halt.

            The wailing cries from the child clutched to her chest was the most beautiful music to her ears.

            As blood dripped freely from her left wing and saturated her shirt at her waste, her lungs burned as she heaved in great lungfulls of air, struggling to her feet.

            “Oh my god!  My baby!  Oh god!”

            The shriek had her head snapping up.

            Both mother and father were rounding the house, the mother sprinting frantically toward them.

            Panic lit up her mind like fireworks.

            Setting the toddler down, Feronia stroked the soot-blackened blonde pigtails once, and then ran for the trees towards April’s old home.  Whipping a glance over her shoulder, she saw the mother fall to her knees just as she reached her child, scooping the bawling toddler into her arms. 

            Whatever the woman shouted at her as Feronia fled was lost as the rising wail of fire trucks filled the driveway, the darkness of the shadowed woods descending over her.  And as the setting sun sank fully beyond the horizon and the dark coolness of night settled down upon the world, Feronia ran.

***

            Feronia never ran all the way to the farmhouse.  At some point, the pain in her side and left wing became too much to bear, and she stumbled to a halt, chest heaving as she gasped for breath, leaning against the rough bark of a tree.

            The darkness of the night pressed in on her as she stood there on shaking legs, facing the direction of the farmhouse.  Her left wing hung at an awkward angle, and every twitch of the aviary limb sent new pain blooming through her.  Pressing a hand against the ache in her side, she lifted it away and held her palm up to a silvery shaft of moonlight.  The glint of wetness glittered back at her, and with a groan, Feronia pressed her hand back against the still bleeding cash on her right side, just above her hip bone.

            Hissing past the sting of pain from her side too, she glanced back toward the farmhouse, still veiled by trees.

            With a grunt, Feronia pushed off the tree and shuffled through the leaf strewn forest floor, moving in a different direction.

            She had been seen.  Even if she hadn’t been, news media might have searched out neighboring people to interview about the terrible fire.  But the fact that that entire family had seen everything – a winged human diving into billowing smoke only to bust out the other side – she was too afraid to go where she was once safe.

            Feronia wasn’t sure how long she pushed herself onward, stumbling over tree roots only to fall hard to the carpet of fallen leaves from seasons past.  Yet she struggled to her feet, head spinning and body aching, only to trudge onward.

            When the sky began to lighten, tiny songbirds awakening and chirping cheerily to the dawn of a new day, Feronia could move no longer.  A cluster of cedar trees were just to her right, and she moved toward them, pushing through the boughs to reach the center of the clustered trunks, sinking to the forest floor.

            Before the black void of unconsciousness claimed her, Feronia curled in on herself, and then she knew no more.

***

            It could have been hours.  It could have been days.  Feronia was far too weak to move from the shrouded safety of those cedar trees.

            Whenever consciousness did return to her, it was to a pounding head, a thirst so great she was certain she was to die from it, and such agony in her wing and side it often drove her right back into that void of nothingness.

***

            Blinking open eyes that wanted to defy such action, Feronia peered up at leaves and branches moving by, the occasional break of the canopy opening to a star studded night sky.

            Strength drew her closer against a hard plated, muscled chest, and she groaned at the white hot bolt of agony that flared through her broken body.  She tried to speak, but nothing came from her throat but a hoarse croak.  Licking cracked, dry lips with a tongue that was just as dry, she tried again.

            “Leo…I-I’m s-s-…s-sorry…”

            Red fluttered at the edge of her vision.

            “Shh, I got ya, Fer.”

            Then as the powerful body beneath her picked up speed, Feronia went limp, sadness swirling through her as her sluggish mind recognized Raphael’s bulk.  She wouldn’t be able to tell Leo how sorry she was for breaking her promise.  How much she —

***

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, lovelies! Thank you for your continued support for this TMNT fanfic!! One more chapter and an epilogue, and then this sucker is done!

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at fanfiction, figured I would post it as I finish a section, almost like mini chapters. I will probably edit and clean it up as I go, so bear with me as I am bran spanking new to this.


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